


Fix You

by enigmaticblue



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 169,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desperate times call for desperate measures where the First is involved. In order to prevent the end of the world, Buffy asks Willow to do a spell that’s supposed to fix everything, and Spike goes along for the ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Desperate Times

**Author's Note:**

> Written for effulgent_girl, who requested that S7 Buffy and Spike be sent back to S4, which got me to thinking. Always a dangerous thing.
> 
> WARNING: There are a couple of character deaths (not Buffy or Spike, or any of the Scoobies), which I would consider minor and others might not. See the end of the work for more notes. In addition, there's a spell that goes wonky and sex that ensues that might be considered dub-con.

“We’re not going to beat this thing,” Buffy murmured.

 

Spike glanced over at the Slayer, surprised at the words that had just come out of her mouth. “You can’t think like that. Looks bad, yeah, but we took on a Hellgod and won.”

 

“Glory wasn’t something that couldn’t be destroyed,” she pointed out. “We know why the First Evil is here; we know it’s because the Slayer line was weakened. That’s not something that I can fix, though. I’ve got a dozen girls looking to me to make it all better, and there’s nothing I can do, Spike.”

 

“Buffy—” he began.

 

She met his eyes. “Willow never should have brought me back. This wouldn’t be happening if I’d stayed dead.”

 

The worst part was that Spike couldn’t argue with her. The Eye of Beljoxa had been clear enough about that—if Willow and the others hadn’t performed the resurrection spell, the First wouldn’t have been able to manifest as it had. There was literally nothing they could do to stop it. They’d been wracking their brains for days, with no results.

 

“Too bad we can’t go back in time and fix it all,” Spike observed idly, grateful for the small blessing of having Buffy by his side. She’d said she wasn’t ready for him to be gone, and she seemed to be following up on that sentiment by actually spending time with him. It was a nice change from being chained up in the basement alone.

 

She leaned her head back against the wall. “When did everything go wrong, Spike?”

 

“When I didn’t keep Doc from cutting Dawn,” Spike said steadily, feeling the familiar stab of guilt, his constant companion these days. He didn’t think he’d ever be completely free of it—no matter how much time went by, or how much good he managed to do.

 

Buffy laughed shortly. “That would have made things easier,” she agreed. “If the portal hadn’t opened, I never would have had to jump, Willow never would have brought me back, and we wouldn’t be facing the end of the world. Again.”

 

She glanced over at him, and Spike knew that he hadn’t quite managed to hold back the wince her words had caused. “I’m sorry, Spike. That made it sound like it was all your fault.”

 

“Isn’t it?” he asked quietly. “If I’d done my job—”

 

“It’s just as easy to say ‘if Willow hadn’t brought me back,’” Buffy reminded him gently. “That’s where this began. It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do.”

 

Spike shook his head, unable to bring himself to agree with her. Ever since Anya and Giles had told them what the Eye had said, Spike hadn’t been able to think of anything else. What if he had stopped Doc from cutting Dawn? What if he had found a way to kill Ben as soon as he had realized what the other man was, chip or no chip? What if he had stopped Willow from doing her resurrection spell? What if there had been something—anything—he might have done to keep the First Evil from rising?

 

“What do you know about time travel, Spike?” Buffy asked thoughtfully.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Know it can’t be done.”

 

Buffy didn’t look convinced. “I don’t believe that. There has to be a spell of some sort.”

 

“You’re not supposed to change the past, Buffy,” Spike replied. “There’s no telling what altering one thing would do. Could end the world early.”

 

Buffy shook her head stubbornly. “That’s just it, though. The world _is_ going to end, unless we can find some way to fix the Slayer line. We might not be able to undo my resurrection, but we might be able to prevent it from happening.”

 

Although he was ready to dismiss the idea out of hand, Spike hesitated to say anything. They didn’t have a lot of other options at the moment, not if they wanted to stop the First. “You going to talk to Willow about it?”

 

“Yeah,” Buffy said slowly. “I am. I don’t know if she’ll be able to do anything, but I’ve got to try, right?”

 

“Just promise me one thing,” Spike said seriously.

 

Buffy smiled. “What’s that?”

 

“If you can, take me with you.” Spike met her eyes. “You’re going to need backup.”

 

He watched as she swallowed. “If I can, I will.”

 

~~~~~

 

They all stared at her as though she was crazy. “You can’t possibly be serious,” Giles said.

 

“Give me another option,” Buffy snapped. “You were the one who told me what the Eye said; I don’t think that me dying now would stop it.”

 

“It wouldn’t,” Anya confirmed. “This isn’t something that can be repaired, Buffy. The weakness is there, and the First has already exploited it.”

 

“My point exactly,” Buffy said. “We all know that the First can’t be stopped. We can’t fight it; we can’t even touch it. The only way to make sure that it doesn’t manage to end the world is to make sure it never gets the chance in the first place.”

 

Xander was shaking his head. “How? You don’t have a time machine. Going back in time is impossible.”

 

“No, it’s not.”

 

Willow’s quiet voice broke through the furor, and Buffy looked over at her friend. She’d called a Scooby meeting, no potentials allowed. It was just them—the same people who had been at her side for nearly seven years now. Plus Spike, who had been keeping his mouth shut. He leaned against the doorway, watching them all through half-lidded eyes.

 

Buffy was as hyper-aware of him now as she had been when they were sleeping together.

 

“What do you mean, Will?” Buffy asked, tearing her eyes away from Spike.

 

Willow took a deep breath, her hands hanging between her knees where she sat on the couch. “I don’t think it’s impossible. I’ve been looking into this sort of thing ever since Anya told us what the Eye of Beljoxa said. I figured since this whole thing was basically my fault, I should try to figure out what I could do to fix it.”

 

Buffy didn’t bother arguing with her. In a way, this _was_ Willow’s fault. “And what did you find out?”

 

“That there might be a way to send you back to a different point in time,” Willow replied. “The only problem is that you won’t be able to come back here. It’s not like you’ll go back, change things, and then wind up here, in a different future. You’ll have to live it again.”

 

Buffy winced. “With another Buffy there?”

 

Willow shook her head. “If there were two of you, the whole world would pretty much cease to exist. The paradox wouldn’t be good. No, I’d essentially be sending everything that makes you, you back, but not your body. That would still be here.” She frowned. “Although, technically, _here_ wouldn’t really exist anymore.”

 

Spike spoke up for the first time. “How many can you send back?”

 

Willow’s eyebrows went up. “I don’t know if I can send anybody back. That’s what I’m trying to say. If this fails, Buffy won’t be here, and we’ll be without a Slayer.”

 

“If this fails, the world as we know it probably won’t be around for long,” Buffy replied. “And there’s another Slayer. You’ll just have to convince her to give you a hand.”

 

Giles stood from his position on the couch next to Willow. “This is ridiculous, Buffy. I absolutely forbid you from attempting such an idiotic thing. You don’t know that we won’t be able to stop the First, and if you fail—”

 

“If I fail, I’ll be dead,” Buffy said, cutting him off. “Which, technically, I should be anyway.” She glanced over at Spike, then back to Willow. “Can you send both of us?”

 

“Do you know when?” Willow asked, with a nervous glance at Giles.

 

Buffy felt a little guilty about making her friend choose sides between her and Giles, but she felt as though she was being the realistic one at the moment. She was the Slayer, and she knew a losing battle when she was facing one.

 

She’d known it with Glory, too.

 

“The night I died,” Buffy replied. “If you send both Spike and me back, we’ll have a better chance at stopping the whole thing from happening. If he can’t get to Doc in time, and I still have to jump, he’ll at least be around to make sure you don’t do the resurrection spell.”

 

“Buffy,” Xander protested. “You don’t know what you’re saying. We’re the ones that did this; we’re responsible. You shouldn’t be—”

 

“The one cleaning up the mess?” Buffy asked wryly. “Maybe not, but I think that this is our best shot. Spike and I are probably the only two people with a decent chance at preventing the apocalypse right now. If we can do this, it’ll be worth it.”

 

“If you can do this, it will be a bloody miracle,” Giles inserted. “I can’t believe that you’re seriously thinking about going through with this.”

 

Buffy faced him, feeling the power of her calling. She hadn’t had a Watcher for a while now, but that wasn’t her fault. Giles was the one who had left, abandoning ship just when she needed him most. While he might have had the best intentions, Buffy wasn’t about to let him tell her how to do her job.

 

“You’ve always told me that it’s my duty to save the world, Giles. Live or die, this looks like our best hope.”

 

“Buffy?”

 

Dawn’s voice from the doorway had Buffy turning around. She’d sent her sister to the grocery store with Andrew and the potentials to get supplies, raiding what little savings she’d managed to put away over the last months.

 

“Hey, Dawnie.”

 

“What’s going on?” her sister asked suspiciously, looking from one face to the other.

 

Buffy shook her head. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

 

Dawn opened her mouth to protest, but then nodded, turning from the doorway. Buffy didn’t miss the half-longing look Dawn gave Spike just before she left, though. She felt like their broken relationship was her fault. If she hadn’t used him so badly the year before, if she hadn’t forbidden them from seeing one another—if she’d just been honest with her sister…

 

So many things had gone wrong, but they might have a chance now to make it right. If this worked, if Willow could send her back—even if she couldn’t send Spike back—Buffy would have the chance to do it all again.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike had no idea why Buffy would want him to be present for this, other than the reason she’d given. “I don’t really feel like chaining you up again, so you’ll just have to stick close.”

 

She was really giving him mixed signals these days. The Slayer had rescued him from the First and had checked him for injuries in front of the potentials. Spike could almost believe that she cared.

 

Except that Spike didn’t believe in miracles anymore; Buffy would never actually care about him, not as more than a friend, anyway. And he was damn lucky just to get that much.

 

“You’re doing what?” Dawn asked incredulously.

 

Buffy sighed. “Look, Dawn, we’re not even sure that Willow will manage it, but it’s this or watch the world end, and I’m not in favor of the second option.”

 

“Why you and Spike?” Dawn asked, glancing at him. He wasn’t sure how to read the expression on her face.

 

“Because he’s the only other person who can make sure what needs to happen does happen,” Buffy explained gently.

 

“You mean you staying dead,” Dawn said, her expression indicating that she felt that Buffy was betraying her.

 

“Not necessarily,” Spike said, speaking up for the first time. “That’s why I’m going, to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”

 

“So you’ll actually do your job this time around?” Dawn asked snidely.

 

Buffy jumped to his defense, which still startled Spike every time it happened. “Dawn! That’s not fair!”

 

“Sure it is,” Spike said quietly, holding Dawn’s gaze. “If I had protected her, you wouldn’t have had to die, and we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He knew why she had lashed out at him; they had both blamed themselves for Buffy’s death during that long summer. Dawn was likely thinking that it was as much her fault as his for their current situation. If Dawn had taken the plunge off that tower, this wouldn’t have happened.

 

Dawn looked away. “I’m sorry,” she muttered.

 

“Forget it,” Spike said, suddenly weary of it all. Day in, day out, there were the constant reminders of how he’d bollixed it all. His relationship with Dawn, his relationship with Buffy—it just went to show what a total fuck-up he was.

 

“Well, I’m not going to forget it,” Buffy snapped, sounding exasperated. “Dawn, this isn’t your fault, either. And Spike, I’m not going to say this again: you did your best. End of story. Now, you two can shake hands and make up or whatever it is you want to do, because if Willow figures that spell out…” She trailed off, but Spike heard what she hadn’t said.

 

If Willow figured out the spell, and it went wrong, they would both be lost, with nothing to show for their efforts.

 

“It’s okay,” Dawn said, sounding just a little desperate. “I mean, I know you guys have to do this, and I’m glad it’s Spike going with you.” She met his eyes again. “You’ll take care of her.”

 

It was a statement, not a question, and Spike recognized it as the peace offering that it was. “Bloody right.”

 

~~~~~

 

“I really must protest,” Giles said quietly, wishing that his Slayer would listen to him for a change. He didn’t remember her being quite this stubborn. “If this doesn’t work, you’ll be leaving us in a worse position than we are currently in.”

 

“And if I don’t try this, we may not even have a position,” Buffy said.

 

Giles sighed, watching as Willow made the final preparations for the spell from his position behind Buffy on the basement stairs. Although Willow hadn’t been able to make any promises, she’d professed herself reasonably certain that this would work.

 

Buffy had been unable to concentrate on anything else after that, even when there was no evidence that it would be successful. Giles feared that if Buffy was wrong, not only would they lose their two best fighters, but Willow would be too drained to be of use.

 

Giles wasn’t sure that Willow would successfully complete the spell without giving into the impulse for power, and he wasn’t certain that Spike was Buffy’s best choice for backup. Surely someone—anyone—else would be the wiser option.

 

“But Spike!” Giles remonstrated. Again. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

 

Buffy turned to face him, her expression implacable. “Spike’s going, Giles. Deal with it.”

 

He remembered how close they had been at one point, how much trust she’d had in him. When Buffy had discovered Dawn was the Key, he had been the one she had come to. At some point, Buffy had begun to turn to Spike, which Giles simply couldn’t understand. Spike was a danger to everything they were trying to accomplish; he was a weak link, and Giles was certain that he would get Buffy killed.

 

His conscience prodded him, reminding him that Spike had sought his soul, an act that ought to have been an impossibility—both in the impetus that spurred his quest and the attempt itself.

 

“Where is Spike?” Giles finally asked. “Shouldn’t he be down here?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “He’s upstairs, getting something to eat, since we don’t know what this is going to do to either one of us.”

 

“And have you eaten?” Giles asked.

 

“I’m not hungry,” she replied.

 

He frowned, knowing how often that had been her response in recent weeks. “You should eat for the same reason that Spike is.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I’m fine.”

 

She wouldn’t say more than that, and Giles knew he wouldn’t get any further.

 

“Buffy!” Dawn shouted down the stairs. “Kennedy and Rona are fighting!”

 

“Damn it,” she cursed. “I’ll be back.”

 

Giles moved aside for her, and then joined Willow. “How is it coming?”

 

“It’s coming,” Willow replied cheerfully. “I think I’ve managed to pinpoint the time that Buffy wants to go back to.”

 

“Can you send both at once?”

 

“That’s the idea,” Willow said. “Whether or not it’ll actually work—I don’t know.”

 

Giles pulled his glasses off and ran a weary hand over his face. “And if it doesn’t work?”

 

“Best case scenario?” Willow asked. “Nothing. The spell will fail, and no one will be hurt. Worst case scenario is that their bodies will be here, but their minds—everything that makes them who they are—will be gone.”

 

Giles swallowed. It was a “worst case scenario” indeed. “And your chances for success?”

 

“Sixty-forty?” Willow guessed. “It’s magic, Giles. It’s not an exact science.”

 

“And what will happen to us if it does work?” he asked.

 

Willow shook her head. “Technically, this time won’t exist anymore if they fix it. We’ll still exist, but only in the past. I can’t explain the mechanics of it, really.”

 

Giles wondered if anyone could, but he had a vague understanding of the realities, enough to know that what they were attempting was incredibly dangerous. “How much longer?”

 

“Fifteen minutes,” Willow replied.

 

Giles heard the creaking of the stairs, and he turned to see Spike and Buffy coming down. “We nearly there, Will?”

 

“Almost.” Willow gave Buffy an anxious smile. “You positive about this, Buffy?”

 

Buffy nodded, crossing her arms in front of her. “It’s the only way.”

 

Willow nodded. “Okay. Just want to make sure. Where are Xander and the others?”

 

“I left them upstairs with the potentials,” Buffy responded. “Kennedy and Rona were ready to start something, so Xander’s making them run laps.”

 

“You haven’t told them?” Giles asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “There’s no point. If this works, it won’t matter.”

 

Giles didn’t bother asking what they were to tell the potentials if it didn’t work; that chore would fall to him.

 

Silence hung over the basement, and Giles wondered if he should say something to bridge the gap that had opened up between him and his Slayer. “Buffy—” he began in an undertone, just as Willow announced that the spell was ready. There was nothing to be said in the time remaining, and so all he _could_ say was, “Good luck.”

 

Buffy gave him a half-smile. “Thanks, Giles.” Her attention was obviously on Willow, the spell, and what was to come.

 

“You’ll want to be touching,” Willow said. “Otherwise, I won’t be able to guarantee that you’ll come out at the same time.”

 

Buffy and Spike exchanged a look and then Buffy held out her hand. Giles watched as Spike interlaced their fingers, and they simply stared at one another, not saying anything at all. It was that unspoken communication that hit him hardest; it spoke of a connection that went beyond words, and for a Slayer to share something like that with a vampire seemed profane.

 

Willow cleared her throat. “That’s great. Okay, guys. Hang onto your hats, because I’m not sure what this is going to be like.”

 

Giles braced himself, listening as Willow began the spell, feeling the magic begin to swirl around the room. He could see the energy surrounding Spike and Buffy, forcing them closer together.

 

Giles’ vision began to gray out at the edges, and he looked around anxiously, trying to determine whether it was an effect of the spell, or if there was something the matter with him.

 

He didn’t have time to discover the cause; as Willow spoke the final words of the spell, the world disappeared.


	2. Over the Rainbow

Buffy blinked in the bright, mid-afternoon light. After the dimness of the basement, it was a shock, and not at all what she’d expected. It took her another moment to realize that she wasn’t just holding Spike’s hand—she was twisting his arm behind his back. Spike was wearing his duster again, and he was struggling against her hold.

 

At least, he had been struggling. When he grew still, Buffy swallowed. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah,” he said softly. “It’s me. Can’t believe Red actually managed it.”

 

Those words convinced Buffy that it was _her_ Spike standing there, and she released him abruptly, causing him to stumble a bit. He still wore the ring she’d been trying to strip from his finger moments before, and he straightened, looking up at the blue sky. “Never expected to have this chance again,” he murmured.

 

Buffy laughed weakly. Even if Willow hadn’t managed to send them back to the right time, at least they were together; that was the biggest thing. Buffy would think about the timing later—probably much later.

 

A movement to her right caught Buffy’s eye, and she shouted, “Xander! No!”

 

Her warning came too late, and the stake Xander wielded went right into Spike’s heart. Spike just stared at him. “You have got to be kidding me,” Spike stated, more than a touch of sarcasm in his voice. Spike glanced at Buffy. “You did explain the purpose of this little bauble, didn’t you?” he asked, wiggling the finger with the Gem of Amara on it, then pulling out the stake. The wound closed immediately.

 

Buffy had to fight back a smile at Xander’s dumbfounded expression. “I did, but I guess he forgot.” She turned to her friend. “Xan, it’s okay.”

 

“It’s Spike!” Xander protested. “And he’s trying to kill you!” He seemed to realize that Spike was doing nothing of the sort. “Why isn’t he trying to kill you?”

 

“We’ve got a truce,” Buffy replied quietly. “It’s going to take too long to explain, and I’m not going to do it more than once, so we’d better go to Giles’ place.”

 

“We?” Xander repeated. “Aren’t you going to take the ring, Buffy? This is Spike!”

 

Buffy met Spike’s eyes, and he raised an eyebrow, obviously willing to let her make the decision. She half-thought that if she asked, he would simply hand the ring over. Spike had been taking her lead these last few weeks, willing to do anything she asked of him. “I think he’s earned a walk in the sun,” Buffy said with a smile, not bothering to explain her statement to Xander.

 

Like she’d said: it would take too long.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike felt as though he was in a dream—a good one for a change. The bone-deep aches that the First’s torture had created were completely gone; he was _strong_ again. If he had been a human, Spike would have said that he was healthy for the first time in years. And he was walking in the sun, with Buffy at his side, and Harris obviously ready and willing to put a stake into him.

 

He had to hide a smirk; the boy might want him dust, but Buffy didn’t, and she was apparently going to enforce her wishes.

 

Spike knew that she could have asked him for the ring, if only as a gesture of good will on his part. Although he would have hated to give it up, Spike would have for Buffy; he owed her everything, and not just because he’d tried to rape her, but because she’d believed in him, protected him.

 

If Drusilla had saved him from a life of quiet desperation, Buffy had saved his very soul.

 

Spike had to wonder how Willow’s mistake would change their plans. Certainly, the goal was still to either prevent Buffy’s death or her resurrection. They had more time now, but that in itself could present a problem, because they would have to deal with what _this_ particular time period threw at them. Spike would have to convince Giles and the Scoobies that he was sincere, and the Initiative and Adam could present a problem.

 

Not to mention how he and Buffy were going to explain their relationship. _If_ Buffy explained anything, of course. She could choose to keep her mouth shut, and give an innocuous reason for why Spike had been the one selected to help her. It was hard to tell with the Slayer.

 

“When did you two call a truce?” Xander demanded. He’d chosen to walk behind them because he hadn’t wanted to leave a vampire at his back. Not a bad impulse on Xander’s part, Spike had to admit, although it wouldn’t have made a difference if he’d really wanted to kill the boy.

 

“About a year and a half ago,” Buffy said with a sideways glance at Spike. “It’s still holding.”

 

Xander’s strangled sound of outrage had Spike smirking. “Oh, really? He kidnapped me and Willow and nearly got us killed!”

 

Spike snickered, and Buffy elbowed him. “Stop it.”

 

“What?” he asked with a hurt look.

 

Her hand was gentle on his arm. “Play nice.”

 

“What’s in it for me?” Spike asked in a low tone, teasing her a bit, just to see if he would get away with it.

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow, replying quietly, “Behave, and maybe you’ll find out.”

 

It was all in her voice; Spike didn’t think she’d used that rather suggestive tone with him before, and it stunned him. For all the sex they’d had the previous year, Buffy had never allowed him to think that she actually wanted _him_.

 

The Slayer had wanted his body, and she had wanted to punish herself. Maybe she’d wanted to pleasure herself, but it had nothing to do with _him_. Other than the fact that he’d been convenient and willing to oblige.

 

This was new.

 

As they approached Giles’ door, Buffy glanced up at him nervously. “Look, if something goes wrong, I want you to—” She broke off, swallowing convulsively. “Oh, God.”

 

“What?” Spike asked, reaching for her arm to steady her.

 

“Hey!” Xander called. “What are you doing?”

 

“Nothing!” Buffy said, and Spike could hear the tears in her voice. “Spike, Mom’s still alive.”

 

Spike blinked. He hadn’t thought of that, but Buffy was right. Joyce hadn’t even been ill, as far as he knew, and Dawn—

 

Buffy obviously had the thought at the same time. “Dawn.”

 

“She’ll show up,” Spike murmured, trying to reassure her. “Just have to wait a bit, that’s all.” He smiled at her. “You’ll get to enjoy being an only child for a while.”

 

She smiled back, as he’d hoped, and took a deep breath. “Like I was saying, if something goes wrong, go to Mom. She’s always had a soft spot for you.”

 

Spike didn’t ask her to define what “something wrong” might look like. Although the ring made him nearly invincible, that would probably only weigh against him in the eyes of her friends and her Watcher.

 

He well remembered what had happened the first time he’d shown up on Giles’ doorstep, looking for help, and Spike didn’t fancy spending the next few weeks tied to a chair or chained in the bathtub.

 

“Right.”

 

Xander pushed past them to enter Giles’ apartment—it seemed that he’d grown tired of waiting for them. Spike’s keen hearing could catch what Harris was saying—something about Buffy going crazy.

 

“I’m not crazy,” Buffy said, heading inside, leaving Spike standing just outside the door. The invisible barrier was still in effect, not that he minded too much. Spike was in no danger of being incinerated by the sunlight, so being outside was a pleasure.

 

“What is going on?” Giles asked, his eyes widening as he caught sight of Spike at the doorway. “Good Lord! Spike!” He began looking around for a weapon. “Buffy!”

 

“It’s okay, Giles,” Buffy said soothingly. “It’s not like that at all. Invite Spike inside.”

 

Giles looked from her to the vampire, and Spike could see the wheels inside his head turning. “What’s going on, Buffy? Spike has the Gem of Amara, doesn’t he?”

 

“Yes, but it’s okay,” Buffy promised. “Please, Giles. This is going to be hard enough without Spike being stuck outside.”

 

Spike could see the difference in _this_ Giles. This was the Watcher who had suggested that the chip had given him the opportunity to make something more of his life, the man who had still had faith in the future, and in others.

 

This was the man who had absolute faith in his Slayer—faith that had begun waning after he’d left Sunnydale.

 

“Come in, Spike,” Giles said evenly, although he kept hold of the crossbow he’d located.

 

“You know that won’t do much good,” Spike said, but he was careful to keep his hands where Giles could see them, and he sat down on the couch gingerly.

 

Giles smiled grimly. “You’ll allow me my fiction, I hope.”

 

“Put that down, Giles,” Buffy ordered. “Spike, give me the ring. Just for now.”

 

Spike met her eyes, seeing the unspoken promise there. It was a temporary loan, and he would get it back. This was to satisfy Giles that he was in earnest, and to smooth the way for Buffy. They needed her Watcher on board; Spike understood that.

 

He watched Giles put the crossbow down warily, and then he slipped the ring off of his finger and handed it to Buffy. She closed her hand around it, catching his fingers in a brief caress. “Thank you.” She turned to Giles. “See? Spike is cooperating, and he’s on our side. In fact, he has a soul now.”

 

She turned to face Xander. “And if you don’t want me to hurt you, you won’t even think about staking Spike. I mean it.”

 

The expression on her face told Spike that she did, and it was apparent that Xander understood as well. “Yeah, okay, Buff,” he said quickly. “No staking Spike.”

 

“What happened, Buffy?” Giles asked. “The last we’d heard…” He frowned, moving closer to Buffy, caught by something in her eyes. Giles trailed off, looking from her to Spike, and the realization began to dawn. “You—” He sat down heavily. “You’re not actually Buffy, are you?”

 

“I’m Buffy,” she was quick to assure him. “Just—different. It’s a long story, and I’d like the whole gang here before I explain.” Buffy looked over at Xander. “Would you mind calling Willow? She should be here.”

 

“Yeah.” Xander complied, his expression indicating that he was getting a little spooked. Spike almost felt sorry for him; these were odd circumstances, to say the least.

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “Just to give you the short story, to tide you over, we’re from three years in the future. There was a certain event that Willow sent us back to prevent, but she overshot the time a little, and here we are.”

 

“Not that I’m complaining,” Spike commented, thinking about the ring that now rested in Buffy’s pocket—not to mention the absence of the chip in his head. He wondered if Buffy had remembered that yet.

 

Buffy smiled. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”

 

“Then you and Spike are—” Giles stared at them both. “What did Spike do to get cursed?”

 

“I wasn’t cursed!” he said, exasperated, even though he knew it was a reasonable question on Giles’ part. “I’m not the sodding Great Poof. Bloody hell, I asked for it. Mind you, there are plenty of days when I wonder why.”

 

Giles swallowed. “You… I think I need a drink.”

 

“Spike got his soul for me,” Buffy said quickly, keeping her voice low enough so that Xander wouldn’t overhear from the other side of the room. He was explaining the situation to Willow, and Spike could hear her excited voice on the other end of the line. Most of his focus was reserved for this conversation, however, because he certainly hadn’t expected her to mention that little tidbit.

 

Giles’ eyes widened and then narrowed. “I see. I’m certain there’s more to it.”

 

“Three years worth of more,” Buffy said. “But—”

 

“It will have to wait until Willow gets here,” Giles finished for her. “Of course. Would either of you like something to drink?”

 

“Water would be great,” Buffy replied. “I’m a little parched.”

 

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” Spike said.

 

The silence hung heavily. No one knew what to say as they waited for Willow to arrive; not even small talk seemed appropriate.

 

Spike took the double scotch that Giles offered him. “Thanks,” he said with a smile. It had been a while since he’d had a drink, not since before they’d figured out that the First was controlling him.

 

Buffy stood next to the window, looking outside with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Spike kept his eyes on her, wondering what was going through her head. It would likely be a while before they were alone so he could ask, but he wanted to go to her now.

 

That might have been possible if it had been a year later, but Spike didn’t want to give either Xander or Giles a reason to stake him—particularly now that Buffy had his ring.

 

Willow and Oz came through the door cautiously about twenty minutes after Xander made the call; Spike had finished his drink, and he was relaxed enough to smile when he saw the cross she held tightly.

 

“It’s okay, Will,” Buffy said, turning to look at her friend. “Spike’s on our side now.”

 

Willow made a face. “When did that happen?”

 

“About three years ago,” Buffy replied, then shot a look at Spike. “Or in a few weeks, depending on your point of view.”

 

Spike grimaced at the unpleasant memories. There was no way he wanted to do that again. “Can we skip that, please?”

 

“Skip what?” Willow asked, bewildered. “What’s going on?”

 

Buffy sighed. “About a year and a half from now, I’m going to die to save the world. You guys resurrected me, which then allowed the First Evil a way to exploit a weakness in the Slayer line so it could end the world.”

 

Giles blinked. “So you came back in time?”

 

“Willow sent us,” Buffy explained. “We were supposed to show up on the night I died. Spike came along to help make sure the end of the world didn’t happen.”

 

“Obviously, we got here a little earlier than we’d anticipated,” Spike added.

 

Giles shook his head. “And you have your soul.”

 

“Won it fair and square,” Spike replied.

 

“But why?” Giles asked.

 

“That doesn’t matter,” Buffy said before Spike could try to come up with a good reason without telling the whole truth. “All that matters is that we still have a chance to fix things.”

 

Oz spoke for the first time. “What do we need to do, Buffy?”

 

Spike hadn’t had much experience with the young man in the past, but he appreciated the levelheaded question. It was clear that Buffy did, too. “Nothing right now, Oz. Although—” she hesitated. “Do me a favor and stay away from Veruca, huh? Spike and I will take care of her.”

 

Spike had no idea who Veruca was, but if Buffy said they needed to take care of her, he’d be right there backing her up.

 

Oz looked confused, but he nodded. “Sure.”

 

“What about the rest of us, Buffy?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “There isn’t much, Will. We weren’t supposed to be here for another year and a half.” She looked over at Spike. “I really want to go see my mom now.”

 

Spike knew the minute that the import of Buffy’s request registered. “How long ago?” Giles asked.

 

“Two years,” Buffy replied. “An aneurysm.”

 

“We might be able to stop it this time,” Spike said quietly.

 

Buffy shot him a grateful look. “I hope so.”

 

“Wait, Buffy,” Xander spoke up. “What else happened? You haven’t told us anything, and you know what happens to us. You said you were going to explain.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, I don’t. The future has changed now, which means that it’s wide open, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure it stays that way. And I said I was going to explain before I remembered that my mom was still around. No offense, Xan, but I need to see her more than I need to explain anything right now.”

 

“How bad did it get, Buffy?” Giles asked quietly.

 

Buffy took a deep breath, and Spike could see the incipient tears. “Let me just say that this is probably the first time in months that I haven’t hurt inside and out.” She winced and moved her arm. “Although I’m still hurting.”

 

“Sorry about that,” Spike said, knowing that their fight had caused her bruises, and Buffy hadn’t had the equivalent of the Gem of Amara to keep her from getting hurt.

 

“Forget it.” Buffy gave a little laugh. “It’s not really your fault.”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Perhaps you’d better go see your mother, Buffy. Spike can fill us in on the other things that have happened.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I want Spike with me, Giles, but we can meet at Mom’s later tonight. I think she’ll be okay with that.” She pulled the Gem of Amara out of her pocket and handed it back to Spike. “Want to see Mom?”

 

“Wouldn’t mind at all,” Spike replied, slipping the ring on his finger.

 

Xander squeaked a protest. “Shouldn’t you hang onto that, Buffy?”

 

“Spike’s not going to hurt anybody,” Buffy replied. “Relax, Xander. I’ll call you later, Giles.”

 

“Buffy?” Willow said, before she could leave. Buffy turned to face her friend, and Willow wrapped her in a tight hug. “You looked like you needed one of those.”

 

Spike could hear Buffy swallow, and he saw the way that Willow’s simple gesture had touched her. “I did. Thanks, Will. I’ll see you all later.”

 

~~~~~

 

They had let her go without any further arguments, although Buffy knew that they would require more answers later. She had no idea what to tell them. How much could she change? How much would she be able to change? They had focused only on what to do to avoid the problems caused by her resurrection, but now—

 

Now it seemed that the possibilities were endless.

 

“So what are we gonna do?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy looked over at him. “See Mom, and then find you a place to stay. I’m still in the dorms, but Mom might let you stay in the basement.”

 

“Or I could find out if the crypt is empty,” Spike said. “Could work out.”

 

Buffy thought about that. “You could decorate a little earlier this time around.”

 

“If that makes you happy.”

 

“It would make visiting you more comfortable,” Buffy said. “Of course, you could live aboveground, with the ring.”

 

“And rent?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

Buffy smirked at him. “You could get a real job.”

 

“Very funny,” Spike shot back. “Without a green card?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe Giles will help.”

 

“You haven’t explained to me why I’d want to start paying for things after over a hundred years of stealing.”

 

“Because your soul will bother you if you keep stealing?” Buffy suggested sweetly.

 

Spike sighed. “You’ve got a point.”

 

“Of course I do,” Buffy retorted, stopping in front of her house.

 

“You want me to wait outside?” Spike asked gently.

 

Buffy shook her head. “Not really.”

 

“Go on, then, Summers. I’ve got your back.”

 

She took a deep breath, feeling unaccountably nervous. Buffy hadn’t seen her mother in so long, and to know that she was just on the other side of the door…

 

Unless Joyce was at the gallery, or the store, or somewhere else. “I should have called first,” Buffy muttered.

 

Spike snorted. “Let’s go.” He took her by the arm and marched her up to the front door, punching the doorbell for her. “There you are.”

 

“I have a key,” Buffy said, checking her pockets. “At least, I thought I had one. Crap. They’re probably at the dorm.”

 

“Have Red bring them over later,” Spike said, just as the front door swung open.

 

Joyce looked surprised to see them. “Buffy? Is everything okay?” She glanced at Spike uncertainly. “Hello, Spike.”

 

“’lo, Mrs. Summers,” he replied.

 

Buffy was speechless; her mother was standing there, in the flesh, alive and well. It was more than a dream come true, it was a miracle. She felt Spike give her a surreptitious nudge forward. “Mom,” she said, trying to keep her voice even, and unable to manage it.

 

Her mom seemed to sense that something was wrong, even if she didn’t know what it was. “Sweetheart? Are you okay?” Joyce stepped forward, and Buffy hugged her fiercely, the relief at feeling her mother’s arms around her unbelievable.

 

“Maybe we better go inside,” Buffy heard Spike say gently.

 

Buffy took a deep breath and nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “That would be good.”

 

That caused Joyce to raise her eyebrows. “I didn’t think you and Spike were friends.”

 

“There’s been a lot going on recently, Mom,” Buffy replied. “I’ll explain everything.”

 

“Of course,” Joyce ushered the both of them inside. “Would you like something to drink?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, we just came from Giles’ place.”

 

“Are you hungry?” Joyce asked, giving Spike another uncertain look. “I don’t have any blood, but—”

 

“It’s fine,” Spike assured her. “I’ll be all right for a bit.”

 

Buffy winced apologetically. “I’m sorry, Spike. I totally forgot. We can go to the butcher’s later.”

 

“There’s no hurry, Buffy,” Spike said. “I ate before we left. You know, why don’t you and your mum catch up? I’ll occupy myself with the telly for a bit.”

 

Buffy nodded, appreciating his sensitivity. “Thank you.”

 

He shrugged. “Not a problem.”

 

“Are you hungry, Buffy?” Joyce asked again. She put her hand on Buffy’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re not sick?”

 

Buffy laughed wearily. “What? Because of Spike? Like I said, there’s been a lot going on. I—I had Willow do a spell today. It was the only way to prevent the world from ending.”

 

“Did something go wrong?” Joyce inquired innocently.

 

Buffy shook her head, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “No, I think something went very right.”


	3. Settling In

It had been easier than expected to explain the situation to her mom. Joyce hadn’t inquired into the details after Buffy had given her the broad outline. She’d briefly debated the wisdom of telling her mom about Dawn, or her own death—or Buffy’s death, for that matter—but had decided that honesty was the best policy.

 

After all, Buffy was going to have to find some way to convince her mom to see the doctor as soon as she started having headaches.

 

Spike wandered into the kitchen about the time Buffy was explaining that she’d been resurrected and torn out of heaven. “Things got really bad after that,” she said vaguely, glancing at Spike.

 

Joyce seemed to think it best not to ask her about that cryptic statement and looked at Spike. “So a few months from now, I’m going to have a daughter I don’t know now, but will have memories of?”

 

“That’s the best way I know how to explain it,” Spike replied.

 

“And you took care of her after Buffy was killed?” Joyce pressed.

 

Spike shrugged. “Wasn’t a big deal. Made Buffy a promise, and I kept it.”

 

Joyce made a sound that Buffy knew well. It was her, “I don’t believe you, but I’m not going to argue” noise. At least her mom seemed to be firmly in the pro-Spike camp.

 

“I told the gang they could come over here later, if that’s okay,” Buffy said. “I still haven’t explained everything to them, but I had to see you.”

 

Joyce reached across the counter to touch Buffy’s cheek. “This is hard to believe, but I know you’ve been through a lot. You’re not the same girl you were a few weeks ago.”

 

“I hope I’ve grown up some,” Buffy said. “I love you, Mom.”

 

“I love you, too, sweetie,” Joyce replied. “Why don’t you stay here tonight? You and Spike both. Your room is open, and I can clear out the guest room a bit.”

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Spike protested.

 

Joyce shook her head. “I insist.”

 

“I can take the couch,” Spike said. “It’s not like I have to worry about the sun.”

 

Buffy watched as his eyes were involuntarily drawn outside. The sun was beginning to make its descent, and there was an expression of awe on his face that warmed her heart. It had been so long since either one of them had been happy, or had had a chance for a moment’s respite.

 

“I think I’m going to make dinner,” Joyce announced. “Buffy, why don’t you take Spike outside? I’ll bet he’d enjoy watching the sun set.”

 

“Come on,” Buffy said, deciding to take her mom up on the offer. Joyce wasn’t going anywhere, but this was Spike’s first sunset in over a century. She took his arm and led him out to the back porch. “Not that we can really see the sunset from this angle.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Spike replied, taking a seat on the stairs. He looked up at her. “Been a long time, pet.”

 

“It really has.” Buffy sat down next to him. “Am I dreaming, Spike? Because I feel…”

 

“Disoriented?” Spike rifled through his pockets, finally coming up with a pack of cigarettes and his lighter. “We both thought we were walking into a fight, and we get this.”

 

Buffy realized that he was right. She’d been fighting a losing battle for months now, without a moment’s peace. Now, she was sitting on her back porch with Spike, the person who understood her and knew her best. “I hadn’t thought of it like that,” she admitted.

 

“Knew there was a reason you kept me around,” Spike joked. “To think of things you don’t.”

 

“Isn’t that what a right-hand man is for?” Buffy asked.

 

His startled eyes met hers. “That what I am?”

 

“That’s one of the things that you are.” Buffy had no idea how to explain what she felt for him. Before the First had sent its Harbingers to snatch him, she’d honestly thought that all she felt was pity; Spike had been hurting and crazy, and it was at least partially her fault. Later, when it became clear that the First was toying with him, when he had asked her to stake him, she had known that it wasn’t simple pity.

 

If it had been no more than pity, Buffy would have had no trouble putting Spike out of his misery.

 

And now? It was too complex to explain in words. Spike was the person she trusted the most, the one who knew her best. Buffy didn’t think it was too far from the truth to say that she loved him, although it wasn’t the overwhelming passion she’d felt for Angel.

 

The lust was still there full-force, but it was different. Tempered, maybe, by time and the knowledge of how deeply they were capable of hurting one another.

 

“I never did apologize for what I said,” Spike commented out of the blue.

 

“What you said?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike shrugged. “About that wanker earlier today. Made some pretty raw comments.”

 

Buffy hadn’t thought about Parker in years. As much as his rejection had hurt at the time, it was a petty sort of wound compared to others she’d received more recently. “He was a jerk,” she said dismissively.

 

“Still,” Spike said. “Can’t quite believe you didn’t stake me as soon as I showed up on the Watcher’s doorstep back then.”

 

“I can’t quite believe it either,” Buffy admitted. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”

 

Spike smirked. “Because you had a secret yen for me?”

 

Buffy snickered and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right, Spike.”

 

Some of the light in his eyes dimmed. “I know, I know. Pipe dream. Can’t blame a man for trying, though.”

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “The secret yen didn’t start until after Willow did that spell,” she said, enjoying her opportunity to shock him. “That’s when I found out what you had under that duster.”

 

Before he could pick his jaw up off the porch, Buffy rose and walked back into the house, putting a little extra swing into her hips for his benefit. It was so much fun to tease Spike, Buffy couldn’t help herself.

 

Besides, they had a chance to do things differently this time around.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles might have had a harder time believing Buffy’s story if it hadn’t been for her eyes. Hers and Spike’s, when you got right down to it. Although she was physically the same as the girl he’d seen just a few days before, her bearing was full of a confidence that came only with age and experience. And Spike—well, Giles was almost certain that he had caught a glimpse of his soul.

 

There was also the fact that Spike and Buffy _weren’t_ trying to kill one another, and in fact, seemed to be rather close.

 

He’d been reluctant to allow both of them to leave before he got a few more answers, but he’d understood Buffy’s desire to see her mother. Her reluctance to let Spike out of her sight was a little more puzzling, but Giles had been willing to put his questions on hold, at least for the time being.

 

Of course, Giles hadn’t considered the fact that he would be seeing Joyce again; things were still a little awkward between the two of them.

 

“Hey, Giles,” Buffy said, answering the door. “Come on in. The others should be on their way.”

 

“Are you feeling better?” he asked, having witnessed how shaken she had been earlier.

 

Buffy nodded. “Much.”

 

“Where’s Spike?”

 

“With Mom in the kitchen, helping her clean up.” Buffy smiled. “I never thought I’d see it, but Mom can get him to do anything.”

 

Giles stopped her by placing a hand on her arm. “What is your relationship with him, Buffy? I know you said that he sought his soul for you, but—”

 

She sighed. “It’s complicated, Giles. There’s a lot that happened between the two of us that I don’t want to talk about.”

 

“I see.” Giles thought that he might. Spike might be well known for his brutality, particularly where it concerned Slayers, but he’d also been amazingly devoted to Drusilla for well over a century. The fact that Spike had accompanied Buffy back in time told Giles quite a bit about the changes that had occurred. “How long has he had his soul?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy replied. “Six months, maybe? He’s still struggling, but I think being here will make it easier. At least the First won’t be able to mess with him.” She gave him a pleading look. “Please, Giles, don’t make a big deal out of this, okay? Spike’s definitely on our side now, he’s not evil, and he’s not going to hurt me or anyone else.”

 

“I think that much is obvious,” Giles replied. “I have no intention of harming him, Buffy, but do you really think that allowing him to keep the Gem of Amara is a good idea?”

 

“Yes,” Buffy said firmly. “He’s earned it. If Spike decides that it’s too dangerous, then he’ll give it up, but it’s his decision.”

 

Giles decided that now wasn’t the time to argue, although he had every intention of talking to Spike about it later. If word got out that Spike had the Gem, he’d be fighting off every vampire who thought himself or herself strong enough to take it.

 

There was another knock at the front door, and Buffy waved him into the kitchen as she went to answer it. “I think Mom said something about hot chocolate and popcorn, if you want to help her.”

 

When Giles entered the kitchen, he found Spike finishing up the dishes as Joyce prepared hot chocolate on the stovetop. “Oh, Mr. Giles,” Joyce said, blushing a bit. “How have you been?”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Quite well, thank you.” His attention was caught by Spike, who moved about the kitchen as though he’d been living there for years. “Spike.”

 

“Rupert.” Spike’s voice was even, although Giles could hear a defensive note there. It made him wonder what he was going to do in the future to cause the two to be so wary. Surely he hadn’t been that much of an ass, not when Spike had sought his soul.

 

He cleared his throat. “Can I help with anything?”

 

“I think Spike and I have it under control,” Joyce responded with a smile.

 

“Spike!” Willow squeaked from the doorway.

 

“It’s okay, Will,” Buffy said in a low voice, putting a reassuring hand on her friend’s arm. “Really.”

 

Giles could see from the expression on Spike’s face that he was ready to leave, which said quite a bit about both the changes he’d gone through and his treatment at their hands. “I can go,” Spike said in a low voice, backing up towards the door. “Should stop by the butcher’s, and maybe swing by the crypt. I could—”

 

“It’s okay,” Willow said quickly. “I just didn’t know you were here, a-and the last time I saw you, you were shoving a broken bottle in my face. Well, other than today.”

 

Spike winced. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

 

“Stay, Spike,” Buffy said.

 

“Stay,” Willow agreed. “If Buffy says you’re okay, then that’s good enough for me.”

 

Spike nodded shortly, although he didn’t reply.

 

“Where’s Oz, Willow?” Giles asked.

 

“He had band practice tonight,” she explained. “I told him I’d fill him in later.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Have you guys heard from Xander and Anya yet?”

 

Willow stared at her friend. “Anya?” she asked incredulously.

 

Giles saw the look that Spike threw at Buffy. “That was probably too much information,” Buffy said.

 

“Xander and _Anya_?” Willow asked in disbelief.

 

“There might be a few things you’ll want to keep under your hat, pet,” Spike murmured.

 

Buffy grimaced. “Yeah. Just forget I said anything.”

 

“But Xander and Anya?” Willow repeated.

 

“It was a little unexpected,” Buffy admitted. “Don’t say anything to Xander, though. I’m not sure Anya’s made her move yet.”

 

Willow made a face. “But—”

 

“If you think that’s the strangest thing that’s happened—or is going to happen—” Buffy stopped and shrugged. “That’s nothing.”

 

“Help me with the drinks, Spike,” Joyce said.

 

Spike grabbed the tray without an argument, and Giles watched as he carried it into the next room. “Buffy—”

 

She shook her head. “Later, Giles. We’re both staying here tonight.” Buffy gave Willow an apologetic look. “I’ll be back in the dorms soon, but—”

 

“Say no more.” Willow smiled. Then, lowering her voice, she said, “I didn’t hurt Spike’s feelings, did I? I mean, I know you said that he’s good now, and he has a soul, so I really wouldn’t want to make him feel bad. It was just a surprise.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “It’s a different situation for us. We—we both have had experiences with…” She sighed. “It’s going to take us some time to settle in. That’s all.”

 

Giles wondered if that was all, or if they would be able to “settle in,” as Buffy said. From the little she’d told them so far, it was clear that many things had changed in three years. It would be a lot to cope with.

 

He couldn’t help but wonder how he would interact differently with Buffy and the others, knowing what he knew, if he went back three years in time. There would be so many things he would change, things he would choose not to do, if given the chance. Other things that he would make certain that he did accomplish.

 

Giles had a feeling that the next few months were going to be interesting indeed.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike couldn’t sleep; the house seemed abnormally silent with only two heartbeats and no voices whispering secrets in the darkness. He had often wondered if the potentials had realized how much he’d been able to overhear from his spot in the basement. If they had, he wouldn’t have learned nearly as much.

 

The conversation with the Scoobies had gone about as well as he’d expected. Giles was cautious, but had been nice enough. Willow had been almost kind, once she got over her initial shock, but then she’d been the one who hadn’t wanted him to commit suicide, even before he had his soul. Xander, of course, had been both skeptical and hostile, wanting to know how Buffy could trust him.

 

Buffy’s response had been gratifying, however. “Have you not heard a word I’ve been saying? Spike’s saved my life and yours. You just haven’t experienced it yet.”

 

That had shut him up quick enough, but Spike had to wonder how they were going to navigate the next year until the moment of reckoning came. There were a hundred things they had to consider between now and then; it was possible that they might prevent Glory from taking Dawn altogether. Perhaps it would be better to ensure that Dawn wasn’t around for the Hellgod to find.

 

The possibilities had his mind spinning, and the unusual silence of the house wasn’t helping. Spike finally rose, pulling his t-shirt on and slipping out of the spare room. He would have to see about collecting his belongings later. He frowned, realizing that Harmony wouldn’t have burned his CDs and other things at this point, which meant that he would be able to save them.

 

“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered. He’d forgotten all about Harmony. He didn’t think she’d be thrilled to see him again, not after the way he’d treated her.

 

“Spike?”

 

He stopped at the top of the stairs, looking over his shoulder at Buffy, who was just emerging from her room. “Go back to sleep, Summers,” Spike said softly, not wanting to wake Joyce. “I’m just going out for a smoke.”

 

“Wait up,” she said, her tone making it a request and not a command. She disappeared inside her room, and then came out with a jacket on. “I’ll join you.”

 

They made their way out to the back porch in silence. Spike hadn’t really thought about the fact that their decision to go back together would isolate them. In a way, that process had been started a long time before, from the moment that Buffy had told him that she’d been in heaven.

 

From that moment, they had been locked in a dance, just the two of them, and the rest of the world had faded away.

 

Not that Spike had any intention of allowing _that_ to happen again; looking back, he could understand how destructive it had been. He had tried to be what he had thought that Buffy needed, but he now understood that he had to be his own man first, and her champion second.

 

Thankfully, the two roles seemed to be overlapping a great deal these days.

 

“So, you couldn’t sleep either?” Buffy said once they’d stepped outside.

 

Spike shook his head ruefully. “This ring doesn’t change the fact that I’m a vampire. Seems odd to be trying to sleep now.”

 

“You haven’t slept in a while, though,” Buffy pointed out reasonably. “Aren’t you tired?”

 

“Aren’t you?” Spike countered.

 

“Touché.” Buffy shifted closer to him. “The house was too quiet.”

 

Spike nodded, lighting his cigarette and taking a deep drag.

 

“What’s it like?” Buffy asked.

 

“What’s what like?”

 

“Smoking.” She looked at the lit fag in his hand. “I’ve never tried.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You want to?”

 

Buffy hesitated and then shook her head. “Probably better not to start now.”

 

“Probably better,” he agreed. “Besides, these don’t have an effect on my health. You’ve got to be able to outrun the nasties.”

 

“I think I’ll go back to the dorms tomorrow night,” Buffy announced. “Mom told me earlier that she didn’t mind if you stayed a while longer, though.”

 

Spike shook his head. “Better not. Might as well start getting the crypt habitable.” He hesitated, then said quietly, “We may have to deal with Harmony.”

 

Buffy frowned and then sighed. “I guess. I don’t really want her kidnapping Dawn in another year. Do you think we can scare her off?”

 

“Don’t know why not,” Spike replied. “She was always scared to death of you, thought of herself as your nemesis, and all.”

 

Buffy snickered. “Yeah.”

 

Since he’d managed to bring up the subject of their exes without starting a fight, Spike asked, “What about Riley?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Riley won’t be a problem.”

 

“You sure about that?” he asked. “Look, Buffy—”

 

“I liked Riley a lot, Spike. Maybe I even loved him at some point, but I’ve been down that road, and I don’t see anything changing. I’m not going to put either one of us through that again.”

 

There was a certain sadness in Buffy’s voice, and Spike wondered what her sorrow was for: regret over loss and lost opportunities, or the fact that she hadn’t nipped the relationship in the bud earlier. He stayed silent, not wanting to ask and not trusting his own voice. He’d accepted the fact that she’d never be his; he’d told her as much when she went out with the principal.

 

“How could I be with Riley now, after what we—” Buffy broke off, and Spike risked looking over at her, seeing the muscle jump in her jaw. “—have?”

 

That wasn’t how Spike had been expecting her to finish the statement; he would almost rather she hadn’t, that she’d told him it was over and done, in the past. Hope was a dangerous siren for someone like him.

 

“You could say something,” she prodded.

 

Spike looked at her, his eyes burning. “What the hell am I supposed to say?” he demanded. “I thought—”

 

He couldn’t tell her what he’d thought; Spike had believed that if he went back, if he saved Dawn, it would be at the expense of his own life. He was supposed to have been the one to buy it that night on the tower, not Buffy.

 

She must have read the emotion in his eyes, because she stared at him in disbelief. “You thought you were going to die?” Buffy demanded incredulously. “You wanted it?”

 

“I wanted to make things right,” Spike said evenly. “Didn’t care how it got done, but I wasn’t letting you die again.”

 

“Damn it, Spike,” Buffy swore. “You don’t get out that easily.”

 

He raised an eyebrow, deliberately baiting her. “You saying that dying is easy?”

 

She glared at him. “You know that’s not what I meant. You’ve had a death wish ever since you came back with that soul.”

 

“No, I haven’t,” Spike said. “I’ve just been a little more realistic about my chances.”

 

Buffy’s eyes darkened. “Well, stop it,” she snapped. “I told you that I’m not ready for you not to be here. What part of that didn’t you understand?”

 

“All of it?” he suggested.

 

Her eyes narrowed, and Spike braced himself for a punch in the nose. What he actually got shocked the hell out of him, because Buffy’s lips met his in a brief, almost chaste kiss. He closed his eyes, savoring her touch and breathing in her scent.

 

When she pulled back, his eyes fluttered open, and he stared at her in disbelief. “What—”

 

“We are in this together,” Buffy said firmly.

 

Spike swallowed. “Right.”

 

“I think I’m going up to bed,” she announced. “Are you coming?”

 

Spike thought of half a dozen responses to that question and settled on the most neutral. “Yeah, sure.”

 

He held the door open for her, grateful that she was able to accept the little courtesies from him these days, rather than throwing them back in his face as she used to. It hadn’t been that long ago when simply holding the door open had gotten him a scornful look and an upturned nose.

 

Tonight, Buffy merely murmured a thank you and a good night, and hope flared unbidden in his chest.


	4. Going Backwards

“Hey!” Willow said excitedly when Buffy knocked. “You’re here!”

 

“I’m here,” Buffy replied, trying to summon up some enthusiasm. “Thanks for meeting me. I must have dropped my keys somewhere, or—” She stopped as Willow held them up. “Or left them here,” she finished.

 

She still wasn’t sure how she felt about being in the dorms. Two years ago, when her mom had been sick, and she’d been responsible for Dawn, Buffy would have given her right arm to play the carefree co-ed again. It had been a long time, though, and she’d done some growing up since then. In a sense, Buffy had been a homeowner, and now she seemed to be moving backwards.

 

Well, she had moved backwards—literally. Buffy just had to deal with the more uncomfortable aspects of that fact.

 

“I don’t blame you for not remembering,” Willow assured her. “I mean, I know it’s been a lot longer for you than for me, and—” She stopped. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Sure, Will,” Buffy replied, although not without some trepidation.

 

“Are we still friends?” Willow’s guileless green eyes searched Buffy’s face for the truth. “You said we took you out of heaven, but you weren’t real clear on what happened later. Did we—are we—”

 

“We’re still friends,” Buffy replied gently. “Remember what I said about you being the one to do the time spell? You’re the only reason we had a chance to make things right.”

 

Buffy could see the relief settle over her friend’s face. “Good. It’s just that you and Spike seem so close, I wasn’t sure if we were friends. And then—I just got the feeling that maybe things weren’t okay.”

 

“We had our rough patches, but it was pretty much okay by the time I left,” Buffy assured her. “I don’t hold that against you, Willow, but—” Buffy wondered if it was too soon to say something, and then decided that it was best to be upfront about matters. “If something does happen to me, you have to swear that you won’t resurrect me.”

 

Willow nodded, her eyes huge. “I swear.”

 

“Good.” Buffy took a deep breath. “Do you know when I have class? I mean, I vaguely remember, but…”

 

Willow grinned and produced a neatly written schedule. “I thought you might have some trouble. Luckily, you didn’t miss anything yesterday that’s going to hurt you. Like Professor Walsh’s class.” At the expression that flitted across Buffy’s face, Willow frowned. “I thought you liked that class.”

 

“The class? Yeah. The professor? Remember what I said about the Initiative hunting demons and keeping them in special cages?” Buffy prompted. “Walsh is the head.”

 

Willow shook her head, apparently trying to recall that fact from the information-dump that Buffy and Spike had done the previous day. “Oh! It’s the same Walsh?”

 

Buffy laughed. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it at first, either. We really are going to have to find a way to disable or destroy Adam before he gets loose.”

 

Willow shrugged. “I’ll start researching it now. You said we had some time, though, right?”

 

“A few months at least.” Buffy looked around the room, feeling stifled. It had felt like home once upon a time, at least as much as a dorm room _could_ feel like home, with her mother just a few miles away.

 

It struck her that she missed Spike. She hadn’t seen him that morning, although she’d left a note for him, knowing that she needed to get back to campus. Buffy had seen him every day for the last couple of months, though, and she’d grown used to his presence.

 

“Buffy?” She turned to face her friend, seeing the concern on Willow’s face. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Buffy replied. “Just—it’s weird.”

 

“Yeah.” Willow sat down on her bed, smoothing the blanket with her hand. “Um, what are you going to do about Parker? I’m assuming you guys didn’t stay together or anything.”

 

The one thing that Buffy had _not_ gotten into was her love life. She hadn’t seen the need, partly because her previous experiences wouldn’t matter this time around, and partly because she hadn’t wanted to share every mistake she’d made with her friends. Buffy had glossed over her relationship with Spike for the same reason, although she had at least admitted that they’d had a relationship. Willow might not be expecting news about Riley, because he hadn’t even shown an interest in her yet, but Parker was something she would have to explain.

 

“It was a one night stand,” Buffy admitted.

 

Willow frowned. “What?”

 

She sighed. “When I woke up the next morning, after I slept with him, Parker was gone. When I saw him again, he said that he’d had a good time. He thought that he’d made it clear that’s all he was looking for.” Buffy didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm.

 

Willow was properly incensed. “That—that—”

 

“Poop head?” Buffy suggested, remembering Willow’s term for him.

 

Willow’s brows drew together in a fierce frown. “That’s not strong enough of a word, but it’ll do for now. When was that?”

 

“It was—” Buffy frowned, remembering. “Technically, it was yesterday morning, because right after Parker walked away, Spike showed up with the ring. In the past, he made fun of me, and I kicked his ass.”

 

“And this time?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy smiled. The look on Spike’s face when he’d realized that he was wearing the ring, that he was in the sun without burning—Buffy didn’t think she’d ever seen him quite that happy before.

 

Although she wouldn’t mind seeing the look on him more often. Spike was hot when he was happy.

 

“This time, that’s when we came back, so I let Spike keep the ring, and Xander tried to stake him. You know the rest.”

 

Willow watched her for a long moment. “You really like him, don’t you?”

 

Buffy wasn’t sure how to answer that. Her feelings for Spike went far beyond simple “like,” but she didn’t know what she’d call it. “I guess. It’s hard to explain. We’ve done so many things to each other, and for each other, that it’s not that simple.”

 

“He hurt you,” Willow stated.

 

“I hurt him,” Buffy countered, seeing that her best friend was ready to take sides, when there weren’t any sides to take. “We hurt each other. We all did…” She trailed off.

 

Willow looked down at her hands. “And Oz? You told him to stay away from Veruca this time.”

 

Buffy waited until Willow met her eyes. “Do you want to know the whole story?”

 

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then Willow firmly shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. But if I see Veruca, I might scratch her eyes out.”

 

Buffy laughed. “If you see her, I’ll hold her down for you.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike read Buffy’s note for the fifth time since he’d awoken, then re-read the note from Joyce, certain that he was still sleeping, and simply hadn’t woken up yet.

 

Or maybe he was still with the First, and it was playing with his head. He was dreaming, because things like this just didn’t happen to the likes of him.

 

Joyce’s read simply, “Spike, stay as long as you like. I think Buffy said she was coming home for dinner tonight.” Although he had every intention of going out and getting his own place set up, he appreciated the invitation and the implied welcome.

 

But Buffy’s note—

 

“Spike, I had to go back to campus. I can’t miss classes today. I’ll be back home tonight for dinner, or you can meet me on campus if you want.”

 

It wasn’t a love letter, but Spike knew that she hadn’t needed to say anything at all; in the past, she would have left without a word, so the note itself said that she was looking at him like a real person, like a friend would.

 

And then there was the invitation to meet her on campus. Spike had learned all about how precious an invitation could be in the not-too-distant past. Or future, as the case may be.

 

As much as he wanted to go to her now, he knew that he had a few things to accomplish first. Spike needed to make certain that the crypt had been cleared out, collect his things from the place he’d shared with Harmony, maybe pick up a few essentials. It had taken him years to make the place into the comfy hideaway that he and Buffy had shared on occasion—at least until Riley blew it up.

 

Didn’t look like that would be happening again, though.

 

Spike went about his errands with a lightness to his step that he hadn’t experienced for a very long time. Not even the guilt from the soul was enough to keep him down.

 

Harmony was nowhere to be seen when he went to collect his things, and Spike felt a pang of guilt mixed with relief. Looking back, he’d treated her shabbily, used her much as Buffy had used him, and while Spike had never loved her, he now could feel a sense of pity for her.

 

If he did run into her when he was alone, it might be best if he sent Harmony on her way, rather than letting the Slayer deal with her. Although the second option would be easier, he thought he might owe it to Harmony to keep her alive, if possible.

 

Spike gathered his things quickly, shoving clothing, books, and CDs haphazardly into a worn duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He then retrieved his car and drove to his usual parking space near the crypt.

 

“Suppose I could clean off the windows,” he murmured, looking down at the ring on his finger. For a moment, Spike actually considered getting a better place, somewhere other than a hole in the ground, but that would mean getting a job.

 

And Spike wasn’t quite ready to go that far.

 

But how far did he want to go? What other changes was he willing to make?

 

Spike looked around the crypt as he entered, assailed by memories, and seeing the potential as he had the first time. When he’d finally fixed it up, the summer that Buffy had been gone, it had been a cozy sort of place. More importantly, it had been _his_ in a way that a cot in Buffy’s basement had never been.

 

He dumped his duffel and wandered over to the trap door that led to the lower level. It had taken him a bit longer to discover it the first time around, but he knew how it was supposed to look. Spike knew where he could scavenge a bed and candles, a television and fridge.

 

This time, he knew that he would need money, and Spike knew where to get it, too. After all, the Gem of Amara had been one piece among many in that treasure trove. Spike knew that it wouldn’t do to remove it all at once, since he had no way to convert it to real cash at the moment, and it would only draw trouble. A little judicious pilfering would do no harm, however, and he’d have the rest of it for a rainy day if necessary.

 

~~~~~

 

It had been decidedly weird to sit in class with Professor Walsh teaching again, and Riley standing in the front of the room like some faithful dog. That analogy was probably a little closer to the truth than Riley would want to believe, although Buffy knew how accurate it was.

 

Weirder still was the fact that Buffy remembered a heck of a lot more than she’d forgotten.

 

“How was the first day back?” Willow asked they walked out of class. She was holding Oz’s hand, and Buffy watched them wistfully. She’d forgotten how good they were together.

 

“It was good,” Buffy replied. “Weird, but good. What are you guys doing tonight?”

 

Willow grinned. “We’ve got a date.”

 

“There’s a film playing at the student theater,” Oz said. “If you want to join us.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I’m going to have dinner with my mom. I think it’s going to take a while for it to sink in, you know—that she’s really alive still.”

 

The others looked a little uncomfortable at that, but Buffy understood. It would wig her out if she were in their shoes, too. “Well, it’s good, that you can spend time with her,” Willow said. “And you should. Family is important.”

 

Buffy’s lips curved up, remembering a scene in the Magic Box, where “family” had taken on a definition other than blood. “Yeah, it is,” was all she said.

 

“What about Spike?” Willow asked. “Is he going to be there?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “We didn’t really talk about it. I mean, he’s free to go wherever he wants.”

 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, luv.”

 

Spike was slouched against her door, in his usual black on black ensemble, although Buffy couldn’t say she’d minded the variety she’d seen in recent weeks. The duster was missing, however, and Buffy wondered at the significance. “Hey,” she greeted him. “What’s up?”

 

“Thought I’d offer you a ride home,” Spike replied. “Now that I have my car again.”

 

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Your car?”

 

“I cleaned it out,” he replied mildly.

 

“You’ve been busy.”

 

“You have no idea.”

 

Willow cleared her throat, breaking up the comfortable intimacy they’d easily fallen back into. “Hi, Spike,” she greeted him, unlocking the door.

 

The vampire smirked. “Hello, Red. Oz.”

 

Buffy was a little surprised to hear him use Oz’s actual name, but maybe that was because he just hadn’t thought of anything else yet. Of course, he’d had several rather uncomplimentary names for Xander, but then again, they’d never liked one another. “Hi,” Oz replied briefly. “You coming to the Bronze tomorrow, Buffy?”

 

“Are you guys playing?” she asked, watching as Willow put her books inside the room. Buffy wanted to invite Spike inside, but she didn’t know if her roommate would be okay with it.

 

“Yeah. Willow said she’d show, but Xander has to work.” Oz looked over at Spike. “You could come if you want.”

 

Buffy saw the shock in Spike’s blue eyes, and then he shrugged, as though Oz’s invitation hadn’t meant a thing. “Might do that.”

 

“You guys don’t have to stand in the hallway, you know,” Willow called, sounding amused. “And Spike? You can come in.”

 

A real smile lit his features, and Spike stepped into the room, looking around. “Looks about like I remember.”

 

“You were in here?” Buffy asked, wracking her brain for when she might have invited him inside, and coming up dry.

 

Spike looked pointedly at Willow and then raised a scarred eyebrow. “Men in black ring a bell, pet?”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! That—I always forget that was you.”

 

“Wait. What did I have to do with this?” Willow asked.

 

Spike smirked. “ _You_ invited me.”

 

“After you were good?” Willow asked hopefully.

 

Spike shook his head, saying cheerfully, “Oh, I was still evil.”

 

“And completely incapable of harming a living thing,” Buffy quickly followed up. “So all’s well that ends well, right?”

 

Spike shrugged. “We’ve yet to see how it ends, Slayer.”

 

“It’s going to end just fine if I have anything to say about it,” she shot back, and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go, Spike. I’ll see you guys later!”

 

Buffy had no trouble with Spike being around her friends, but she wanted some time with him alone, mostly to find out what he had been doing all day, and to talk. Buffy just wanted to interact with someone who understood her references, who would get it when she said she missed Dawn.

 

Once again, Spike was the only one who could understand.

 

~~~~~

 

“Is it just me, or did being with Spike and Buffy together make the room seem a lot smaller?” Willow asked her boyfriend as they left the dorm.

 

He smiled briefly. “It wasn’t just you.”

 

Willow sighed with relief. “Don’t get me wrong, I love Buffy, but she’s different now.”

 

“Different how?” Oz asked.

 

Willow tried to put it into words. When she saw Buffy, Willow saw her best friend, but when she talked to Buffy, it was like talking to someone else. Someone who was still Buffy, but not. “I don’t know.”

 

“I think she’s older.” Oz reached for her hand. “There was a lot she didn’t say yesterday.”

 

Willow knew what he meant; Oz was good at reading in between the lines, and she had sensed that Buffy was holding back, too. Of course, given the glimpses of the future as seen through Buffy and Spike’s eyes, maybe not knowing was better. “I guess. What do you think of Spike?”

 

Oz considered that for a long moment. “He seems like an okay guy. He kidnapped you last year, so I’m probably not going to be starting a fan club, but he’s changed.”

 

That was for sure, Willow thought. If Buffy had been altered, Spike’s transformation was miraculous. She’d realized what a huge change it was when he’d actually looked hurt at her dismay at seeing him standing in Buffy’s kitchen. The old Spike would have sneered at her.

 

“I think Buffy’s in love with him,” Willow said, knowing that she could tell Oz these things without worrying that he was going to go off the deep end like Xander would.

 

Oz smiled. “Will, he put his life on the line for her. A man doesn’t do that unless he’s in love.”

 

Willow leaned into him. “How did you get so smart?”

 

“Just came that way, I guess,” Oz replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.


	5. Bumps in the Road

“How were classes?” Spike asked as they walked to his car.

 

Buffy shrugged. “Turns out I remember more than I thought. So, what did you do today?”

 

“Checked to see if the crypt was occupied,” Spike said. “Picked up a few things. That’s about it.”

 

“You’re really going back to the crypt, huh?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike was a little surprised at her tone. “You were expecting me to do something else?”

 

She shook her head. “No, it’s just—a lot of memories, you know? And—it’s weird not to have you around.”

 

Spike wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. “Yeah. Same here.”

 

“Maybe we could go over there after patrol tonight?” Buffy suggested. “We’d probably better swing by Giles’ place at some point, too. I want to discuss the Initiative more.” She made a face. “And the Gentlemen. I keep thinking of things that are coming, and—”

 

Spike cut her off by putting a hand on her shoulder, pulling her to a stop. “You survived all that once before, Buffy. No reason to think that it’ll give you any more trouble this time around.”

 

“That’s just it, Spike,” Buffy replied. “I know what’s coming, but I don’t know what to do about it all. What about Glory? Do we kill Ben before she has a chance to hurt Dawn this time? Or maybe we should send Dawn away with Mom. Would that be safer?”

 

Spike shook his head, moving his hand from her shoulder to her cheek. “I don’t know the answers, luv, but I’m with you all the way.”

 

Buffy leaned into his touch. “Thank you. Where’s your car?”

 

“Close,” Spike replied, pointing.

 

Her eyebrows went up when she saw the clean car, its windows free of paint. “Wow.”

 

“Told you I’d cleaned it up. Took me most of the day.”

 

“You weren’t kidding.” She grinned at him. “It almost looks like it’ll run now.”

 

Spike snorted. “I’ve never had a problem getting that car to run, luv.” He’d also stopped by the cavern where he’d located the Gem of Amara and picked up a few items to exchange for cash. That had taken enough time that he’d had to put off getting necessary items for the crypt. But now that he had money, Spike didn’t have to worry about stealing, thereby avoiding twinges from his soul.

 

It also meant that he could avoid getting a job, since he planned on putting himself at Buffy’s disposal.

 

He opened the door for her and was treated to a bright smile. “Thank you, Spike.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

It was a change to be polite to one another—polite, but warm. Buffy’s smile, her eyes, the way she looked at him told Spike that their relationship was different. In fact, with her sitting in the passenger seat of his car, and him driving her home, Spike almost felt as though they were on a date.

 

If they weren’t having dinner with her mom, Spike would have almost been able to pretend that it _was_ a date.

 

“This brings back memories,” Buffy murmured as he pulled out of the parking lot.

 

Spike frowned. “What’s that?”

 

“You don’t remember?” she asked. “The night you told me how you felt?”

 

Spike swallowed hard. He remembered all too well and would have preferred to forget. “Yeah.”

 

Buffy looked almost sympathetic. “If it makes you feel any better, it’s kind of funny now.”

 

“Which part?” Spike asked dryly. “The part where you told me it was hopeless, or the part where I chained you up?”

 

“The chaining me up part,” Buffy replied. “Did you really think that would help your cause?”

 

Spike winced. “It wasn’t my best moment.”

 

“No kidding.”

 

He sighed, wishing that Buffy would have allowed him to enjoy the fantasy of being on a date without bringing that night up. Spike stayed silent, not knowing quite what to say.

 

“I was wrong, though,” Buffy continued.

 

Spike glanced over at her. “Wrong about what?” He honestly wasn’t sure he’d heard those words come out of Buffy’s mouth before.

 

“About you not having a shot with me.” She smiled softly. “Thanks for doing this, Spike.”

 

He was too shocked by her first statement for her gratitude to fully register at first. “Huh? Thanks for what?”

 

“Coming back with me,” she replied. “I think I’d go crazy if I was alone.”

 

“You wouldn’t go crazy,” Spike said. “You’re stronger than that, pet.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I’m stronger with you here.”

 

It was the sort of admission that Spike hadn’t thought he would ever hear from her, and it wasn’t a stretch to say that he was shocked speechless.

 

Buffy smirked. “Cat got your tongue?”

 

“Buffy—” Spike wondered if she knew what those words meant to him.

 

Her hand came to rest on his leg. “We’ve come a long way, Spike.”

 

“Yeah, we have,” Spike replied, feeling as though he was living a dream.

 

~~~~~

 

Joyce wasn’t quite sure how she felt about her daughter dating a vampire. Even though she was fairly certain that both Buffy and Spike would be quick to deny that they were a couple, it seemed undeniable from her observations. The way that Spike looked at Buffy when he didn’t think she’d notice, or the way that Buffy watched him leave or enter a room—Joyce remembered feeling that way early in her relationship with Hank.

 

When she hadn’t been able to get enough of him, and her heart had beat just a little faster every time she saw him. When every look they exchanged had some hidden meaning, and they spoke a language that no one else knew.

 

That was Spike and Buffy all over, and Joyce had a feeling that everyone could see it but them.

 

“How were classes, Buffy?” she asked as she set the plate of chicken on the table.

 

Buffy made a face. “I can’t believe how many people have asked me about that.”

 

“You’re a student again, Summers,” Spike said. “Get used to it.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Classes were good, although being in Walsh’s class was a little weird.”

 

Spike couldn’t help his growl. “That—”

 

“Spike!” Buffy said sharply.

 

Joyce had no idea what Spike had been planning to say, but she had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be very complimentary. “Is that the woman who ran the secret government organization?” she asked, vaguely remembering Buffy’s explanation about the Initiative from the day before.

 

“That’s the one,” Buffy replied. “She doesn’t know about me, though, and I think I want to keep it that way.” She frowned. “Maybe we can invoke the First Slayer earlier this time, so we can meet Adam when he escapes.”

 

“You know when that’s going to be?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy nodded. “I think so. I have some idea, anyway.”

 

“We can talk to Rupert about that tonight.”

 

Joyce glanced over at Spike, noticing that he had filled his plate. She was a little surprised that he was eating human food, but then again, she didn’t know much about vampires.

 

And she had a feeling that Spike wasn’t exactly a typical vampire.

 

“You’re going to see Mr. Giles tonight?”

 

“After patrol,” Buffy explained.

 

“And you have a place to stay, Spike?” Joyce asked. “Because if you don’t—”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Spike assured her. “What I’ve got is good enough for the likes of me.”

 

Joyce wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she could see Buffy’s frown. “You don’t have to go back to the crypt, you know.” Buffy’s tone indicated that they had already covered this ground before.

 

Spike smiled. “Buffy, we talked about this. And from what I remember, you didn’t hate the place.”

 

Buffy flushed. “The crypt wasn’t always so bad,” she admitted reluctantly.

 

Spike’s satisfied smile told Joyce a lot, probably more than she wanted to know. “Do you need anything?” she asked. “I have extra blankets that I’m not using.”

 

He looked a bit stunned. “Yeah, that would be great. I can get them back to you, but I haven’t had a chance to pick up any furniture yet.”

 

Joyce frowned at him. “Spike, I have a free bed here. There’s no point in you sleeping on the ground.”

 

“I don’t want to put you out,” he protested.

 

Buffy laughed. “You’re not going to win this one, Spike. Mom has that look on her face.”

 

“Buffy’s right,” Joyce said firmly. “I’ll lend you a key, and you can let yourself in after you patrol.”

 

Spike appeared taken aback, but he didn’t argue. “Yeah, sure, if you insist.”

 

“I do.” Joyce had had a soft spot for Spike ever since he’d cried over Drusilla. Buffy’s trust in him only reinforced it.

 

Buffy smirked. “I knew she was going to insist.”

 

Spike grunted but didn’t reply.

 

“Is it okay if I stay here this weekend, Mom?” Buffy asked.

 

Joyce smiled. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll talk to my assistant; maybe we can do something on Saturday.” She knew exactly what was causing Buffy’s sudden need for her company, but Joyce didn’t mind. Although there were times that she’d enjoyed having the house to herself, she’d missed her daughter, too.

 

For so long, Joyce had felt cut off from Buffy’s life, but it seemed that they had a chance to reconnect. No matter how much time she had left, Joyce wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles passed Buffy an ice pack. “A dozen?”

 

“The vampires have relocated since the Initiative has set up on campus,” Buffy replied, holding the ice pack to her shoulder.

 

“As have the demons,” Spike muttered. “Don’t remember it being this bad last time.” There was a bruise forming along his jaw and a sullen expression on his face. Giles wasn’t sure what had happened between them, but he could feel the tension in the room.

 

Buffy shot him a look. “That’s because you weren’t patrolling with me last time.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I think you’re forgetting all the pissed off demons that were coming after me once I started helping you.”

 

Giles decided that it was a good time to interrupt the coming argument. “Yes, well, I’m sure you both are doing your best now, whatever happened in the past.”

 

“It’s only going to get worse,” Buffy stated. “Once Adam escapes and gets his gang together, it’ll be vampire-demon tag teams unless we can stop him.”

 

“Vampires and demons don’t work together,” Giles objected.

 

Buffy shrugged. “That was before Adam.”

 

“Mr. Bits ‘n Pieces is persuasive,” Spike added.

 

Giles cleared his throat. “How long do we have before this thing makes its appearance?”

 

“A few months,” Buffy replied. “In the meantime, we’ve got enchanted beer—although Cave Buffy won’t be a problem—restless Indian spirits, the Gentlemen, an apocalypse…” She paused. “What am I missing, Spike?”

 

“Other than the Initiative?” Spike asked. “Nothing I can think of, but then I wasn’t paying nearly as much as attention then.”

 

“What will you do, Buffy?” Giles had been wondering all day what his Slayer was planning. The current circumstances were unprecedented; he wanted a detailed summary of the next few years so that he could start planning.

 

Buffy shrugged. “Live my life, kill demons, try to keep from dying. That seems to be where it went wrong the last time.”

 

“And Spike?” Giles asked, looking at the vampire. “What about you?”

 

He smirked. “Live my life, kill demons, try to keep Buffy from dying.”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “And where are you staying?”

 

“My old crypt, at least as soon as I get a bed. Joyce insisted I stay with her ‘til then.” Spike shrugged. “I never was one to argue with a lady.”

 

Buffy snorted her disbelief.

 

Spike gave her a patently artificial smile. “Never said you were a lady.”

 

“Children!” Giles said, wondering what had happened between the two of them. They had been so friendly the day before. “Would either of you like to tell me what happened tonight?”

 

Spike looked sullen. “Nothing happened.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Spike’s pissed off because I went after the biggest vampire and left him with the scrawny one.”

 

“And he threw you into the side of the mausoleum,” Spike snapped. “Told you to wait for me.” He looked at Giles. “You’re her bloody Watcher. You tell her not to be so sodding careless.”

 

Giles raised his eyebrows. “We are both talking about Buffy, aren’t we?”

 

“Giles!” Buffy protested. “I am _not_ careless.”

 

“Perhaps not,” he acknowledged. “But you do have a tendency to be impetuous at times.”

 

Buffy snorted, saying sarcastically, “I think you’re talking about Spike.”

 

Spike rose. “Yeah, I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll see you around, Slayer.”

 

Spike was gone before either of them could stop him, and Giles looked over at her. “Would you care to tell me what that was about? I know it’s not simply that you were hurt.”

 

“I wasn’t hurt, not that badly,” Buffy argued, then sighed. “I might have yelled at him.”

 

Giles frowned. “And that upset him?”

 

Buffy hesitated, then admitted, “I got knocked out for a second or two after I hit the mausoleum. Spike freaked out and yelled at me because I didn’t wait for him, and I said that if he was going to be pissy about me doing my job, he should have stayed behind.” She grimaced. “I meant tonight, but Spike thought I meant stayed behind in the future, and he got upset. Apparently he’s not talking to me now.”

 

“Does this happen often?” Giles asked. “You two seemed rather close.”

 

“We are.” Buffy shifted. “Most of the time. I—I didn’t tell you that Spike and me—we were involved for a while. Really involved.”

 

“After he got his soul?”

 

“Before,” Buffy admitted in a low voice. “It was after Willow brought me back, and things got…” She shrugged. “It’s hard to explain. I hurt him, and he hurt me, and then he went off to get his soul. Things still aren’t right, though. I mean, I don’t think he understands that…” She stopped, clearly uncomfortable.

 

Giles frowned, beginning to get the picture. “And how did everyone react to your relationship with Spike? I would assume that—”

 

“They didn’t know about it,” Buffy stated, cutting him off. “I didn’t tell anybody until after we broke—until after _I_ broke it off.”

 

“I see.” Giles sat back in his chair, regarding her with what he hoped was compassion. He knew that Buffy was extraordinary, but he couldn’t help but wonder what it was about her that seemed to draw vampires like moths to a flame. With the same results. “Three days ago, I would have told you that the very idea of a vampire seeking a soul was preposterous. That kind of sacrifice is impossible for a creature of evil to make.”

 

“Spike wasn’t exactly evil,” Buffy muttered.

 

“I’m beginning to realize that.” Giles sighed. “He obviously cares for you a great deal, Buffy. You may want to keep that in mind the next time you get angry with him. I’ve found that tends to help you refrain from saying something you’ll only regret later.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Buffy replied, rising from the couch. “I should get going. I’ve got class in the morning.”

 

“Of course,” Giles said, showing her out the door. He closed it behind her, wondering what—if anything—he would say when Buffy told him that she was seeing Spike.

 

Giles sighed. At least _this_ vampire’s soul was permanent.

 

~~~~~

 

_Spike stood on the platform, seeing Dawn’s tear-streaked face. Doc stood between him and his goal, and all he could think about was getting to the girl. He had promised—‘til the end of the world._

_Even if that was tonight._

_He rushed forward, trying to beat the old man to the punch. Spike should have known how fast the demon was. He should have been prepared for it. Spike felt the knife sliding in, the burning pain from the blade. Doc was stronger than Spike had expected, shoving him off the edge of the platform and out into thin air—_

_He flew, his back hitting the wall. Buffy lay on the floor before him, hands pulling her robe closed. Spike was shocked—horrified at what he’d nearly done. What he had done. It was another promise broken._

_Buffy’s voice echoed in his ears. “Ask me again why I could never love you.”_

 

Spike woke from his nightmare, tangled in the sheets. After leaving Giles’ flat, he’d come back to the Summers’ house as Joyce had insisted, but now he wondered what he was doing there.

 

He didn’t deserve to be there, and if Joyce knew the truth—

 

Spike rolled out of bed, pulling his clothing on quickly. Buffy had been right; he never should have come back. Perhaps if he’d stayed behind, she would have had the strength to stake him, since she knew what was to come.

 

If he hadn’t returned with her, maybe Buffy would have dusted him, or at least refused him entrance when he came to her for help. Spike knew he’d been a fool to believe that things might be different this time around, that she might have forgiven him.

 

Once again, Spike heard her voice. “If you have such a problem with me doing my job, then maybe you should have stayed behind, Spike.”

 

He snorted. That outburst, just after she’d said that she’d go crazy without him, that he made her stronger, told Spike that things hadn’t changed. Buffy still didn’t know what she wanted from him; she was still using him.

 

Spike shoved his feet into his boots and then stopped. “You stupid prat,” he whispered, angry at himself for hoping for anything different.

 

He knew Buffy well enough to know that she probably hadn’t meant it quite the way it had come out. They both had a tendency to speak before thinking. Still…

 

Spike shook his head to clear it. He’d already made his decision; he was Love’s Bitch, soul or no soul, and Buffy was the woman he loved, no matter how she treated him.

 

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when he made his way downstairs, and he had every intention of taking off, not wanting to face Buffy’s mother with the memories of his failures so close. Joyce’s voice stopped him before he was halfway to the door. “Spike? Are you leaving already?”

 

Spike turned to offer a reassuring smile. “Figured I’d better get a head start on everything I have to do today. Thanks for your hospitality, though.”

 

“Did you want the blood that’s in the fridge?” Joyce asked.

 

Spike hesitated. What he wanted was to get out of there, away from reminders of what he’d done, but he _was_ hungry, and he’d need to eat soon. “Yeah. Forgot it was there. Might as well have breakfast first.”

 

“Are you okay?” Joyce asked, her eyes searching his face.

 

He shrugged. “’Course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

For a moment, he thought that she might argue with him, but instead she merely shook her head, not pressing for an answer. “Will you see Buffy today?”

 

Spike sighed. “Dunno. We had a bit of a row last night.”

 

Joyce looked amused. “Is that unusual?”

 

An unwilling smile crossed Spike’s face. “Not really.”

 

She patted his shoulder sympathetically. “I’m sure Buffy’s forgotten about it already.”

 

Spike didn’t respond, knowing that the chances of Buffy forgetting were slim. Their disagreement from the previous night was minor in comparison to all the things they’d said to one another—and done to one another, but it was a symptom of a greater problem.

 

And Spike didn’t—couldn’t—believe that they’d left their problems in the future.


	6. Getting Even

Willow sank into her seat next to Oz at the lunch table gratefully. Buffy had been a grouch all morning, and it was a relief to have a buffer. It was also nice to be able to have lunch with her boyfriend and her best friend all at once. They didn’t get the chance nearly as often as she’d like.

 

“Rough morning?” Oz asked in a low voice.

 

“Spike and Buffy had a fight,” Willow replied.

 

Buffy plopped down next to Willow. “I can hear you, you know.”

 

Willow made a face. “It’s not my fault you’ve been Miss Crankypants.”

 

“No, it’s Spike’s fault,” Buffy replied.

 

Willow raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were the one who yelled at him.”

 

“He yelled first,” Buffy said stubbornly.

 

Oz raised his eyebrows. “I take it you guys aren’t coming to the Bronze, then.”

 

Buffy frowned. “That’s tonight?” She made a face. “My days are all turned around.”

 

Willow nodded. “Are you going to come? Xander has to work tonight, so if you don’t, I’ll be sitting by myself.” She couldn’t keep the wistful note out of her voice. It had been a long time since the gang had been together, and Willow missed the closeness they’d had in high school.

 

Buffy smiled. “Of course I’ll come.”

 

“And Spike?” Willow asked. “You could ask him, kinda like a peace offering.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Yeah. I probably should apologize anyway.”

 

Oz managed to look amused, even though his expression didn’t change much. “I thought you said it was Spike’s fault.”

 

“It was,” Buffy said. “But that doesn’t mean I should have said what I did.” She glanced down at her tray. “You know, I’m really not all that hungry. I’ll see you guys tonight.”

 

Willow and Oz watched her leave. “She’s been like that all day.”

 

Oz looked at her. “Big fight then?”

 

Willow shook her head. “Not really. I think that Buffy just doesn’t like Spike not talking to her.”

 

“Makes sense,” Oz observed. “I don’t like it when we’re not talking.”

 

“Me neither,” Willow agreed. “Did you know what Buffy was talking about when she mentioned Veruca?”

 

Oz shrugged. “The only Veruca I know is the lead singer for ‘Shy.’ They play at the Bronze sometimes.”

 

Willow searched his face, wondering if there wasn’t a little more to it. “Okay.”

 

He reached for her hand. “Hey. I know to watch out for her now.”

 

Willow nodded, although she wasn’t terribly reassured. She wondered how much of the future was immutable, and how much Buffy’s knowledge would change.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike’s intention, once he converted some of his treasure into cash, was to go looking for furniture, among other things. The problem was that every time he tried to make a mental list of things he needed, he remembered sitting on the sarcophagus with Dawn, or having sex with the Buffybot.

 

Spike remembered the shrine he’d made from the mannequin and items he’d filched from Buffy, chaining up the Slayer and her telling him that he hadn’t a chance. Once again he saw Captain Cardboard come striding in, and Buffy believing the soldier’s side of things without giving him a chance to explain.

 

The explosion, Buffy’s face when she told him that it was over, when she told him that his feelings were real—for him.

 

Dawn’s words when she told him how he’d hurt Buffy by sleeping with Anya.

 

Spike had thought he could come back here; it had seemed the easiest route, and he had liked the crypt. It had suited him and his needs just fine, but now…

 

There were too many memories, and few of them were good.

 

Spike ran his hand over the cold stone. Even with the soul, he was still a monster, but Buffy made him want to be a man—now more than ever before. The crypt was part of that image, and Spike wondered if it was such a good idea to cling to it. After all, they’d gone back in time to try to fix what had gone wrong.

 

Trying to convince Buffy to join him in the darkness hadn’t worked, and Spike knew now that it had been the wrong tactic to use.

 

He looked down at the ring on his finger, and knew that it would allow him to join Buffy in the light of day—if that was what he wanted.

 

Spike looked around the interior of the crypt, and then turned his back on his memories, heading back out into daylight.

 

There might not be any hope for his relationship with Buffy, but Spike could at least choose to make a fresh start for himself.

 

~~~~~

 

“Spike?” Buffy called, entering the crypt. “Are you here?” She’d already called her mom, and Joyce had said that Spike had left early that morning. He’d told her that he had a lot to get done, but Joyce had commented that Spike had seemed to be in a hurry to leave.

 

Buffy sighed, turning slowly to look around the crypt. So far, it didn’t look like he’d done much with the place; she certainly couldn’t see any improvements.

 

Wandering over to the trap door that led down to the lower level, she peered down into the hole. There was no light, which indicated that Spike wasn’t down there either.

 

“What are you doing here, Slayer?” Spike asked from behind her.

 

Buffy whirled, startled by his voice. She hadn’t heard him coming, and she silently berated herself for letting down her guard in a cemetery. “Looking for you,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible.

 

Spike watched her evenly. “You need a partner for patrol tonight? Or are you here to rip me a new one again?”

 

“I didn’t mean what I said, Spike.” Buffy felt the same frustration well up again. She wanted to be able to talk to him, to be able to say what she meant without him getting angry or upset.

 

Buffy wanted to go back to the time when they could communicate through silence alone. Maybe she and Spike had gone back in time, but it was clear that they’d dragged their baggage with them.

 

He sighed, sounding a little exasperated. “I know. Let’s forget it ever happened.”

 

It wasn’t what she wanted, but Buffy knew better than to argue when Spike used that tone of voice. He was really impossible to talk to when he was in a bad mood. “Fine. Oz’s band is playing at the Bronze tonight.”

 

“Yeah, he mentioned it the other day,” Spike said. “You want me to patrol for you?”

 

Buffy frowned. How the hell could Spike be so obtuse? “Um, no. I wanted you to go with me. We can patrol later tonight. Or maybe let the Initiative deal with the things that go bump in the night.”

 

Spike stared at her. “You want to what?”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “For you. To come to the Bronze. With me.” She spoke slowly and used small words so that Spike couldn’t mistake her meaning. Maybe she should try to apologize again. “What I said last night—it didn’t come out right.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Spike scratched the back of his head, staring at the floor.

 

“So, you need any help getting this place set up?” Buffy asked, waving at the interior of the crypt. “Mom said you had a lot to do today.”

 

Spike shrugged. “I changed my mind.”

 

Buffy frowned. “About what?”

 

“About this.” Spike shoved his hands in his pockets. “Found another place that’ll be better.”

 

Buffy was a little surprised, given how reluctant Spike had been to pay rent on a place. “Okay. Where is it?”

 

“You want to see it?” he asked.

 

“Well, duh.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “It would be nice to know where to find you.” She frowned. “But if you’re not staying here, why—”

 

“Called Willow,” Spike said, anticipating her question. “She said she thought you might be trying to get in contact with me.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Are we okay?”

 

“Yeah, Summers. We’re fine.”

 

Buffy wished he sounded a little more certain about that.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike watched Buffy’s face anxiously as she did a slow turn to see the apartment. “It’s nice.”

 

“It’ll do.” Although he could have had more windows, Spike didn’t want to advertise the fact that he had the Gem of Amara. There were plenty of people who would be very suspicious if they found out that Spike, Slayer of Slayers, was living in a place with a southern exposure.

 

Besides, since it was a basement apartment, it was cheap, and he’d negotiated for a six-month lease in case it didn’t work out.

 

The place was reasonably spacious, however, and Spike could tell that it had been remodeled recently. He would miss the tunnel access, but with the ring it wasn’t necessary. And if this place did work out—

 

Well, the Bit would be showing up in less than a year, and it was a lot safer for her to come here than to a cemetery, even during the day.

 

“It came furnished?” Buffy asked, plopping down on the dark brown, overstuffed couch.

 

Spike shook his head. “Found the furniture at a second hand shop.”

 

“It’s comfy.” Buffy ran her hand over the plush fabric. “Which shop?”

 

“It’s a demon shop,” Spike admitted. “Best not to ask where they get their stuff most of the time.”

 

Buffy winced. “Right.”

 

“Not like I can do anything about it now,” Spike defended himself. He’d debated, but it was cheap, and he didn’t want to go back to the cave with the treasure any time soon. The more often he visited, the greater chance there was that someone else would find it.

 

She shook her head. “It’s fine, Spike. It’s not like you did anything wrong to get it.” Buffy frowned. “Wait a minute. How did you get the money for this place?”

 

Spike held up the hand with the ring on it. “There was plenty where this came from. I only took what I needed, though. Save the rest for a rainy day.”

 

Buffy leaned her head back against the couch. “I should probably let you know that we’re going to have some trouble in a few nights with Neanderthals.”

 

Spike frowned. “Literally, or figuratively?”

 

“Pretty much literally. There’s magic beer involved.” Buffy sighed, adding in a rueful voice, “Thankfully, I won’t be drinking it this time, because that was not pretty.”

 

Spike’s eyes widened. He’d seen Buffy drunk before, and it had been highly amusing. At least until she’d freed his kittens. “You? What did you do?”

 

“Other than make a complete fool out of myself?” Buffy smiled nostalgically. “I don’t remember, but Willow told me that I hit Parker over the head with a big stick.”

 

“Too bad you’ll miss the opportunity this time.” Spike’s mind was already working out a way to stick it to the wanker. While he hadn’t cared the first time around, Spike thought it might be nice to teach the boy a lesson.

 

Or at least make it a lot harder for him to get laid.

 

“And there’s the haunted house that’s really haunted,” Buffy said. “I’ll have to warn Oz about the magic symbol.”

 

“When’s that?” Spike asked, sitting down next to her on the couch.

 

Buffy scooted over so she could rest her head against his shoulder. “Halloween. Want to be my date?”

 

Spike swallowed. “What?”

 

“Date.” Buffy shot him a look. “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

 

Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Do I have to dress up?”

 

Buffy grinned at him, and the pure delight in her eyes both warmed him and scared him to death. “Would you?”

 

“What if I said no?”

 

“Then I probably wouldn’t go to the party,” Buffy said.

 

Spike brought the demon forward. “Could go like this.”

 

“You could.” Buffy’s hand came up to touch his cheek, and Spike felt his face shift back. “I’ll probably still go as Little Red Riding Hood.”

 

Spike smirked. “Then maybe I should go as the big bad wolf.”

 

“Maybe you should.” She pulled his head down gently, meeting his lips with her own.

 

He reveled in the tenderness of her touch; it took the sting out his dreams of the night before and the memories of his failures.

 

Even if he knew it would only last until Buffy changed her mind once again.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy made her way through the crowd at the Bronze. Most Friday nights were packed, but the club seemed even busier tonight. She glanced over her shoulder to look at Spike when she felt the tug on her hand. “You want something to drink?” he asked.

 

“Sure,” Buffy replied. “Diet Coke?”

 

“No beer?”

 

“A world of no,” she said, rolling her eyes when he smirked.

 

Spike pulled away from her, and Buffy finished making her way to the table where Willow was already sitting. “Hey there.”

 

“Hey!” Willow perked up when Buffy sat down next to her. “Was that Spike I saw with you?”

 

Buffy shrugged, trying to keep the smugness out of her voice. “Yeah. We made up.”

 

Willow raised one eyebrow archly. “Really? Was there kissing involved in the making up?”

 

Buffy could feel herself blushing, and she knew that she wasn’t going to get away with lying. “Maybe.”

 

While making out had been a prominent feature of the afternoon, they had also spent time talking, working out a plan for the next few months. It was difficult to look ahead any further than that, but Buffy wanted to be prepared, and she had more information than Spike did. It was important to her that he knew what to expect as well.

 

Just sitting on his couch, though, talking idly, without having to worry about the next emergency, or a bunch of potentials…

 

She was finding being back here a little like taking a vacation.

 

Willow grinned knowingly, obviously sensing that there was good gossip at hand. “What else did you guys do?”

 

“Get your mind out of the gutter!” Buffy said. “We just went to see his new apartment and talked. It was nice not to rush to the next emergency.”

 

 Willow smirked. “Does that mean you guys are dating now?”

 

For a moment, Buffy considered lying, telling Willow that the kiss didn’t mean anything. She remembered how well hiding her relationship with Spike had gone last time. “We’re definitely doing something,” she admitted. “It’s a little complicated, though.”

 

“Isn’t it always?” Willow asked.

 

“Here you are, luv,” Spike said, setting Buffy’s drink down in front of her and a blooming onion in the middle of the table. Retrieving a bottle of beer from his duster, he pulled up a seat. “Didn’t ask if you wanted anything, Red.”

 

Willow shook her head. “I’m good.”

 

Buffy was quiet, wondering how much Spike had heard of what she’d said to Willow. “Is Oz playing every Friday night?” she asked, wanting to change the subject.

 

Willow nodded. “Pretty much. They have to work around the full moon thing, but that’s not too hard.” She scowled. “Veruca’s band has been practicing after Oz’s a lot lately, though.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Will,” Buffy assured her friend. “I’m not going to let her get her paws on Oz this time.” She glanced over at Spike, hoping he didn’t mind the foray into girl talk. He appeared to be happy munching on his blooming onion while listening to the music and the conversation, however.

 

“What if Oz wants her paws on him?” Willow asked, sounding uncertain. “I mean, it takes two, right? So if he wants—”

 

“He doesn’t want,” Buffy said firmly. “Trust me. Veruca is a skank.”

 

Willow didn’t look convinced. “But—”

 

“Oz isn’t that kind of guy.” Buffy was certain of that; if she could just keep Veruca away from him, she would be able to save Willow’s relationship. She was there to fix things, and that’s what she was going to do; it was just that simple.

 

She hoped.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike caught the disgusted expression on Willow’s face, and he leaned in close to her. “Something wrong?”

 

Buffy had gone to the bathroom, and Spike was trying to decide if he had the nerve to ask Buffy for a dance. She and Willow had danced together earlier, but he hadn’t joined them. Spike had said that he wanted to save their table, but mostly he didn’t want to risk another rejection.

 

Especially not after the afternoon they’d just spent together.

 

Willow had seemed to be okay with his presence, though, and so her change in expression had surprised him. Spike hoped that it wasn’t anything to do with him.

 

“It’s not you,” she assured him, sensing his confusion. “It’s that poop head, Parker Abrams. He just walked in.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He couldn’t keep the delighted smile off his face. “Where?”

 

Willow frowned, puzzled at his reaction. “Over there,” she replied, pointing. “In the red shirt.”

 

He smirked. “Be right back.”

 

“Wait. What are you going to do?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Just going to get another drink. You want something?”

 

Willow shook her head. “No, that’s okay.”

 

Spike did exactly what he’d told her he would do and wandered over to the bar, ordering another beer. He paid, and then took the scenic route back to their table. Of course, that took him right past Parker’s table, where he was sitting with a pretty brunette.

 

Spike stopped right in front of the table, acting as though he’d just recognized the boy. “You,” he growled. “I can’t believe you’ve got the nerve to show your face.”

 

The girl looked startled, glancing between Spike and Parker, who was obviously confused. “Do I know you?”

 

“You bloody well should!” Spike exclaimed, raising his voice just slightly, so that it carried clearly. His timing was perfect to hit the break between songs. “You’re the one that slept with my friend’s little sister! Do you know how old she was, you sodding wanker? Fifteen! I ought to call the cops on you!”

 

“Hey, look,” Parker said, rising from his chair, his hands raised in self defense. “You have the wrong guy. I would never—”

 

Spike stepped up close, making sure to invade his space. “The party last year? The drunk girl?”

 

The guilty look on Parker’s face was enough to cause his companion to look sick to her stomach. Spike had no idea who the boy had slept with, but he knew the type. There was bound to have been a drunk girl at a party that he hadn’t known well. While there might not have been any girls that young, Spike had known the comment would get a reaction.

 

Knowing how gossip worked, it wouldn’t be long before the rumor got around that Parker Abrams preyed on little girls.

 

Spike smirked inwardly. There were plenty of women who would go out with a guy knowing that he was a ladies’ man, if only because they believed they could change him, but no one dated a pedophile.

 

“I thought she was at least eighteen!” Parker protested, and slammed the last nail in the coffin. The girl he was with rose and began gathering her things, and the patrons within earshot began whispering what had been said to those farther away.

 

Spike seized him by the collar and pulled him in close. “Next time, try keeping it zipped,” he advised. “Or I might call the cops on you. I’ve heard about what they do to child molesters.”

 

He released Parker hard enough to cause him to stumble, sprawling on the floor. Spike wandered away, keeping the pissed off look on his face long enough to get back to their table, where Buffy and Willow were waiting. He sat down, his expression challenging Buffy to get angry.

 

Instead, a slow smile emerged, and then both she and Willow began to giggle. “The look on his face!” Buffy gasped. “ _You_ are a bad man, Spike.”

 

“The baddest,” he replied, smiling smugly. “And don’t you forget it.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “You shouldn’t have, but thank you.”

 

The warm light in Buffy’s eyes belied her words, however, and Spike couldn’t help but be satisfied with his night’s work. Particularly since Buffy would start giggling every now and then at the memory of watching Parker Abrams sprawled on the floor.

 

Buffy’s laughter was music to his ears.


	7. Begin Again

“Okay, so we’ve got the haunted house taken care of?”

 

Oz nodded. “I’ll make sure no blood hits the symbol.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “Xander, did you check on the enchanted beer?”

 

Xander made a face. “Yes, but I don’t see why we couldn’t let them drink it, Buffy.”

 

“They started a fire on campus and kidnapped two girls last time,” Buffy pointed out. “I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

 

Xander sighed. “You weren’t the one they were making fun of.”

 

Buffy gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Xander.”

 

“It’s okay. I have to find a new job now, though.” He took a bite out of his pizza. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a bartender.”

 

“Try the construction business,” Buffy advised him. “There should be an opening soon.”

 

Xander frowned. “Construction, huh?”

 

“Trust me.” Buffy looked at Spike. “Am I forgetting anything?”

 

“Think that does it for the next few weeks anyway,” he replied.

 

Buffy let out a long sigh. “Good. We can worry about the Initiative later.”

 

“And the soldier boy?” Spike raised an eyebrow.

 

“Who?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy shot Spike a dirty look to remind him to keep his mouth shut. “Riley. He’s one of the Initiative soldiers.”

 

“Do you have a relationship with him?” Giles inquired.

 

“He’s the TA for our psychology class, and that’s _all_ he is,” Buffy insisted. “I dated him last time, but that’s no longer a possibility.”

 

“What happened, Buffy?” Willow sounded concerned. “I thought Riley was a nice guy.”

 

“He is a nice guy,” Buffy assured her friend. “But I won’t be dating him this time around.”

 

Spike muttered something that she couldn’t quite catch.

 

“What’s that?” Buffy asked sweetly.

 

“Said he shouldn’t have been seeing you in the first place as your TA. Got to be a violation of the school code.”

 

Buffy gave an exasperated huff. “It doesn’t matter, Spike, because it’s not going to happen.”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “If that’s all, Buffy, perhaps we can talk about patrolling.”

 

“We’re patrolling,” Buffy said off-handedly.

 

“And who is we?” Giles asked.

 

“Spike and I,” Buffy said. “We’re going to sweep the cemeteries tonight, and I’m staying with my mom this weekend.”

 

Giles nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

 

“So do I,” Willow murmured with a secret smile and a look at Oz.

 

Buffy grinned when both Xander and Giles winced at that idea. “I’m glad you approve. We’ll see you tomorrow night.”

 

~~~~~

 

Joyce smiled as she opened the door to see Spike on the other side. “Hello, Spike. Buffy should be coming down any minute now.”

 

“Yeah, alright.” Spike stepped inside, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “How are you, Joyce?”

 

She smiled. “I’m fine. Buffy said you decided to get an apartment, instead of going back to the crypt.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Seemed like the thing to do.”

 

“She also said you were dating now.”

 

Spike’s expression reminded Joyce of a little boy who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “She did, huh?”

 

“Were you planning on telling me?” Joyce asked.

 

He shrugged. “Didn’t know that Buffy wanted to tell anybody.”

 

“Why wouldn’t she?” Joyce had no idea why her daughter would want to keep a relationship with Spike a secret. Granted, he was a vampire, but Buffy hadn’t let that stop her in the past. It certainly couldn’t be because she feared Joyce’s disapproval; that hadn’t deterred her either.

 

“Because I didn’t tell anybody the last time,” Buffy supplied from the stairs. “There were issues.”

 

“You can say that again,” Spike muttered.

 

Joyce decided that she didn’t want to know. The discomfort on Buffy’s face and the pain in Spike’s eyes suggested that it wouldn’t be a pleasant tale. Ignorance was often bliss when it came to her daughter’s extracurricular activities. “Well, I hope you know that you’re welcome here anytime, Spike.”

 

“Yeah, thanks.” Spike looked so embarrassed and uncomfortable that Joyce turned to her daughter. “What time do you think you’ll be home?”

 

“Much later,” Buffy replied cheerfully. “You probably better not wait up. Are we still on for shopping tomorrow?”

 

“Whenever you wake up.” Joyce looked at Spike. “Did you want to come with us?”

 

His eyes widened. “Shopping? Don’t think so, but thanks anyway.”

 

Buffy snickered. “Oh, come on, Spike. I’m sure you need some new clothes.”

 

“I’ll take care of it, thank you very much. Don’t need the two of you messing about in my closet.”

 

“We wouldn’t be in your closet,” Joyce pointed out reasonably.

 

Spike shook his head adamantly. “I can do my own shopping, and what I’ve got is just fine.”

 

Buffy snorted, but didn’t say anything in reply. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom.”

 

“Be careful!” Joyce called as the two of them left.

 

Spike turned to look at her over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of her, Joyce.”

 

Joyce didn’t doubt that for a minute, which was the main reason she wasn’t all that disappointed about the two of them dating. Besides, Spike didn’t sneak around as Angel had. Joyce appreciated the fact that he was so up-front about everything.

 

Plus, knowing what he would do in the future—or what he had done the first time around—had her almost happy about Buffy being with a vampire.

 

~~~~~

 

“So, you’re staying with your mum again?”

 

Buffy looked a little sheepish. “I know it’s not the college-girl thing to do, but I want to spend as much time with her as possible.”

 

“You worried about how it’s going to go down this time around?” Spike inquired.

 

Her eyes were distant. “A little. I mean, it’s hard to tell how much we can change.”

 

“Might be able to change everything. No point in borrowing trouble.” Spike smiled shyly. “You told your mum about us.”

 

“The whole point of this is to do things differently,” Buffy replied, reaching for his hand. “I don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

 

Spike let out an unnecessary breath. “You haven’t told her about…”

 

“Why would I?” Buffy led him over to a stone bench. “I guess we haven’t talked about this, have we?”

 

“Not really, no.” Spike couldn’t meet her eyes. “I know I told you I was sorry, and I know it’s not enough, but—”

 

“Don’t.” Buffy took a deep breath. “If we talk about this now, can this be the _only_ time we talk about it?”

 

Spike nodded. “Whatever you like, luv. I know I don’t have the right—”

 

“Stop it,” Buffy said sharply. “That’s just it, Spike. You keep forgetting that we both screwed this up. We both did some really shitty things last year. Or—well, last year for us, anyway. You know what I’m trying to say.”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Spike said. “What I did, though—I broke every promise I made to you.”

 

“You did,” Buffy said evenly. “And that might have made a difference in my feelings for you, except that you came back, and you’re the only one who ever did.”

 

Spike swallowed. “So, we really doing this?”

 

“I’m up for it, if you are,” Buffy replied.

 

He eyed her warily. “You’re talking about pulling out all the stops, yeah? Not lying about what we’re doing, not sneaking around, real dates.”

 

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Buffy agreed. “And no violence. I mean, the sex is great, and I don’t mind it a little rough sometimes, but I don’t want to get into the habit of hurting each other again.”

 

Spike was charmed by Buffy’s blush. “I don’t have a problem with that, Buffy.”

 

“Good.” She flushed even more deeply. “Kiss me?”

 

Unable to resist her invitation—and without the slightest inclination to do so—Spike leaned in. It was so easy to get lost in her—in her taste, in her scent, in the feel of her hands creeping under his duster. Spike twined one hand in her hair, cupping her cheek with the other.

 

He kept his touch light and undemanding, not wanting to cross a line. She deepened the kiss, her tongue seeking entrance, and Spike let her set the pace. Buffy’s hand came up to caress his face, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw as she pulled back.

 

“I think we’re supposed to be patrolling,” she murmured regretfully.

 

Spike sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “Yeah. Suppose so.”

 

“I don’t think I can spend the night tonight,” she said regretfully. “Maybe during the week, but I don’t want to rub my mom’s face in the fact that I’m sleeping with you.”

 

Spike smiled. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her?”

 

“Something like that.” Buffy looked somber. “Besides, I don’t know how long she’s going to be around. I want things to be good between us, you know?”

 

Spike nodded, brushing her hair out of her face. “I do know.” He rose from the bench, and Buffy followed him. “Have you two talked about Dawn showing up yet?”

 

“Some, but I have a feeling that she won’t even remember the conversation.” Buffy stopped. “Crap. I didn’t even think about that. Are we going to remember everything that comes after Dawn showing up if the monks do their memory spell?”

 

Spike had no idea. They hadn’t even considered that possibility, since they were supposed to be arriving after the memory spell. “Dunno. They just kind of stuck Dawn in, didn’t they? It wasn’t like they took away memories you already had.”

 

Buffy heaved a sigh of relief. “I guess so. Of course, even if they did remove some memories, I wouldn’t know, would I?”

 

They shared a look, and Spike started chuckling at the same time Buffy let out a giggle. “Think that falls under the category of things we can’t do anything about, luv.”

 

She shook her head. “You’re right.”

 

He smirked. “Say that again?”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes, but she complied with fairly good grace. “You’re right, Spike. We shouldn’t worry about it, because there’s nothing we can do.”

 

“Anything else you want to tell me I’m right about?” he asked.

 

“Don’t push it, mister,” Buffy warned him.

 

Spike grinned. His evening just kept getting better.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow pulled the chain mail over her head, pleased with her reflection, and the idea for her and Oz’s Halloween costumes. Knowing Oz, he wasn’t going to dress up in anything too crazy, and this was perfect.

 

“Looking good, Will,” Buffy said, entering the bedroom.

 

Willow turned and grinned. “Thanks!” She frowned. “Where’s your costume?”

 

“I just have to put it on,” Buffy assured her. “I’ve spent the last hour convincing Spike that it’s okay for him to celebrate Halloween, even though it’s a really tacky holiday, and that he should dress up.”

 

Willow couldn’t wait to hear what Spike had to say about the whole affair. She had a feeling that he was going to be using a lot of sarcasm, and as long as his wit wasn’t aimed at her, he was funny. “What’s he dressing up as?”

 

Buffy smirked. “He joked about going as the big, bad wolf, but he said he wasn’t going to wear that much fur. So, he’s going as death. Spike said it was appropriate.”

 

Willow winced, but couldn’t argue. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

“Is something wrong, Will?” Buffy asked.

 

Willow shook her head. “No, it’s just weird, you know? You being with Spike. He was trying to kill us a few weeks ago, and you were worried about him getting the Gem of Amara. Now, he has the Gem, and you guys are dating, and it’s like no big deal.”

 

Buffy sat down on the bed next to her. “I know how weird it seems, but so much has happened between us.”

 

“When did you fall in love with him?” Willow asked.

 

“In love?” Buffy rose and began to undress. “Who said anything about love?”

 

Willow was almost certain that Buffy was in love with Spike. All the signs were there, and Buffy wouldn’t date a vampire lightly. “Come on, Buffy. I’ve seen how you guys look at each other. Are you telling me that you would be dating him if you didn’t have feelings for him?”

 

“I didn’t say that I don’t have feelings for Spike.” Buffy pulled her dress on. “I just don’t know if it’s love.”

 

“What else would it be?” Willow was puzzled. “You like him, don’t you?”

 

Buffy refused to meet her eyes. “Yes, of course.”

 

“Okay. You enjoy spending time with him?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You want to jump his bones?”

 

“Will!”

 

“Well?” Willow raised her eyebrows patiently. “Do you? Because he’s a hottie.”

 

Buffy scowled. “Attraction has never been a problem with us.”

 

“You slept with him?”

 

“A lot,” Buffy admitted.

 

“You like him, you like spending time with him, and you’re attracted to him. That spells love to me,” Willow said triumphantly, having proved her point. “So, what’s the problem?”

 

Buffy sighed. “The problem is that there’s a lot that’s happened between us. We’ve done things to each other, and I’ve hurt him…”

 

When she trailed off, Willow stood and walked over to her. “Are you worried that he won’t forgive you? Because I’ve seen how he looks at you, Buffy. I don’t think that’s something you have to worry about.”

 

“It’s not about him forgiving me, it’s about us having a real relationship.” Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, and then looked at her friend. “I want to try. I just don’t know if it’s going to work.”

 

Willow grimaced sympathetically. “Well, I’m with a werewolf, and we’ve made it work. And from what you’ve said, Xander made it work with an ex-vengeance demon. You guys are good together; even Xander can see it, although he won’t admit it out loud.”

 

“Maybe.” Buffy shook her head ruefully. “Okay, no maybe about it. We _are_ good together, but how long is it going to last?”

 

“I think you’re focusing on the wrong thing here, Buffy.”

 

“What’s that?” she asked.

 

“You’re focusing on when it’s going to end, instead of focusing on what you have right now.” Willow put her hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t take it for granted, but don’t focus on the wrong thing, either.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “That’s just it, Will. Every other relationship I’ve had has failed, usually because I screw it up.”

 

Willow smiled. “Then don’t screw it up, if you want it that bad.”

 

Willow knew that it was easier said than done, but she thought it was good advice. She couldn’t help but wonder if Buffy’s knowledge of the future would cause the Slayer to be more cautious, or perhaps more pessimistic. Knowing what was coming—

 

Well, Willow had often wished for a crystal ball, but seeing the effects of that sort of clairvoyance up close made her change her mind. In a way, Willow thought she might have more hope for the future than Buffy did.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike settled the black cloak over his shoulders, tying it at the neck and pulling the hood up over his face. It wasn’t a bad costume as those sorts of things went. In truth, he couldn’t be arsed to do more than put on the cloak and carry a big weapon.

 

The scythe was real, although he’d painted the blade to dull the shine. The demons and vampires would likely be staying in on Halloween, but there were no guarantees that the soldiers would do the same. Spike wasn’t taking any chances with the bastards this time around.

 

Spike had no idea why he was dressing up and going to a party when he had no desire to do either. Not even the free booze that Buffy had promised him would normally be enough to tempt him to do something as ridiculous as this.

 

He sighed. Spike knew exactly why he was doing this. It had everything to do with the fact that he was trying to prove to Buffy that he could fit inside her world. He’d made a lot of noise about her place being in the darkness with him, and that hadn’t worked out well for him at all. Now it was time to try something a little different, but Spike had to wonder if it was worth it.

 

Not that Spike had a real choice in the matter. He _was_ Love’s Bitch, after all.

 

As he crossed the campus, Spike caught sight of a group of commandos, and his grip on the scythe tightened. He still remembered the shame of being forced to go to the Slayer and her friends for help; Spike couldn’t even say that it had turned out for the best at this point.

 

Although he had more hope now than he’d had in a very long time.

 

Spike avoided the knot of men carefully, not wanting to alert them to the presence of a vampire. He had no idea what kind of equipment they were carrying with them.

 

Buffy and Willow were waiting for him just outside the dorm when he arrived. “Is everything okay?” Buffy asked, peering underneath his hood to catch a glimpse of his face.

 

“Just peachy,” Spike replied with a tight smile.

 

She frowned. “It’s not okay. What happened, Spike?”

 

He shook his head. “Saw a bunch of the soldier-boys passing by. Just brings up bad memories.”

 

Buffy swallowed, then turned to Willow. “Are you guys okay going to the party by yourselves? We’ll walk you over to meet Oz, but it might be better if we’re not on campus with the rest of the student body.” She sighed. “I had forgotten that they’d be out and about tonight.”

 

“We don’t have to do that, Buffy,” Spike said, hating to disappoint her, as reluctant as he’d been to go to the party in the first place.

 

Willow brightened. “Oh! Why don’t we go to the Bronze? They’re doing something Halloween-y tonight, and it’s not like you have to worry about the haunted house that’s literally haunted.”

 

“I thought Oz was supposed to be at the party,” Buffy objected.

 

Willow shrugged. “If he wants to put in an appearance, we can show up and then meet up with you guys later at the Bronze. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

 

“Thanks, Will,” Buffy said. “I think that will work.” She looked at Spike. “Okay?”

 

It was the first time in—well, it was the first time that Buffy had ever taken his wishes into consideration when making plans. Or changing her plans, which was slightly different. “Yeah, that’s great. Appreciate it, Red.”

 

Willow shrugged off his thanks. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, we live on the Hellmouth, so it’s not like a haunted house holds much appeal.”

 

“Come on,” Buffy said, grabbing his hand. “Oz is probably waiting for us.”

 

Spike felt Buffy’s grip tighten on his hand, and he squeezed back, thinking that maybe he wasn’t such a fool after all.


	8. Mistakes in the Present Tense

“Buffy?”

 

“Yeah, Will?”

 

“Last time around, did Oz have lunch with Veruca?”

 

Buffy looked up from her textbook, concern beginning to show in her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

 

“Because he was eating lunch with her today.” Willow said miserably. “They were talking musician-ese when I got there, and then they both left.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Together?”

 

“No,” Willow admitted. “But—what if this is going to happen no matter what, Buffy?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy said slowly. “I don’t even know how much to tell anyone. What if it doesn’t happen? There are things…”

 

Willow took a deep breath. “What should I do?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy repeated. “Do you want me to talk to Oz? Maybe he thinks it’s no big deal, but if I tell him that this is how it happened last time, he might try harder to avoid her.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” the other girl said with a relieved sigh. “Thanks.” Willow raised her eyebrows. “How are you and Spike?”

 

Buffy frowned, obviously playing dumb. “What do you mean?”

 

Willow rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Buffy! You guys were pretty cozy last week. He was here half the time.”

 

She shifted uncomfortably. “That’s okay, right? I mean, I had to study, and it was easier if I stayed here, but if you don’t want Spike around—”

 

Willow shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s not like he’s loud. Well, not all the time, anyway,” she added, remembering one rather heated “discussion” he and Buffy had had regarding whether or not he was going to patrol on his own. Buffy had been worried about the Initiative; Spike had insisted he was fine on his own.

 

In the end, they’d gone out together, still arguing. Willow hadn’t been terribly surprised when Buffy didn’t turn up at the dorm again until just before daybreak, looking thoroughly kissed.

 

“He knows how important this is to me. At least this time,” Buffy said. “I had to drop out of school after Mom died, and Spike was there for the aftermath.”

 

Willow hesitated, wondering how much she should pry. Back in high school, they had talked about everything, including if and when to have sex, but things had changed. “So, have you guys—you know?”

 

Buffy looked amused. “You can do it, but you can’t say it?”

 

She shrugged uncomfortably. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s none of my business, but I thought you’d be spending a lot of time at Spike’s apartment, and you haven’t.”

 

“I’ve been spending time there,” Buffy replied, sounding a little defensive. “I just haven’t spent the night yet.”

 

“So you haven’t slept with him?” Willow asked, leaning forward. She missed the girl-talk they’d shared in high school. Buffy seemed so different now, kind of grown up. It was weird for Willow to feel like Buffy was the more mature one in their relationship.

 

Buffy sighed. “I slept with him before, just not recently.” She frowned, obviously hesitant to talk about whatever was on her mind. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anybody? Not even Xander.” She swallowed. “Especially not Xander.”

 

“Of course!” Willow exclaimed.

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “The thing is, things with Spike and me got really complicated, mostly because of the sex.”

 

~~~~~

 

Standing in front of Spike’s door hours later, Buffy still couldn’t believe she’d told Willow as much as she had. Her explanation hadn’t strayed from her relationship with Spike, and she’d attempted to be as honest as she possibly could. It was the first time she’d told anyone the whole story.

 

And, although Willow had been shocked, she’d also been supportive. That had been a relief.

 

She and Spike had somehow managed to slip back into the pattern they’d established right after her resurrection, just with more kissing, and no denial on her part. Just seeing the expression on his face when she showed up at his door—pleasure, with no hint of anger or resentment—was worth it all.

 

“How are you, luv?” he asked.

 

Buffy smiled. “Good. Willow said that Oz had lunch with Veruca today.” She’d told Spike what had happened between the two werewolves.

 

Spike frowned. “That’s not good, right?”

 

“I don’t know. It happened last time.” Buffy made a face. “I told Willow I’d talk to Oz.”

 

Spike reached for his jacket. “All right. We going tonight?”

 

“We can’t,” Buffy said. “It’s the night before the full moon.” She sat up straight. “Oh, crap. I can’t believe I was so _stupid_!”

 

“What is it, Buffy?” Spike asked, alarmed.

 

Buffy swore. “Oz escapes tonight, and that’s how he runs into Veruca. If we don’t get there before he gets out, it’s going to be bad.”

 

He grabbed his jacket. “You got a tranq gun? I’m assuming that’s what you want to use. Don’t know about you, but I don’t really want to wrestle a werewolf tonight.”

 

“Giles has it,” Buffy said. “We’ll have to run and pick it up.”

 

“Don’t have to run,” Spike replied. “I’ve got a car, remember?”

 

Buffy nodded gratefully. “I do now. I’m sorry, Spike. I’m not even thinking clearly. I just keep wondering about the future, and if—”

 

“Hush now,” Spike said. “Gotta keep in mind that there’s more than just us involved in this. Whatever’s going on in the boy’s head, you can’t control that. Other things, you can control.”

 

“I know.” Buffy took a deep breath. “I know. Let’s go.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike knew exactly how Buffy felt. He’d been experiencing similar doubts about their ability to make a difference, although they had already changed a few things.

 

He had the Gem of Amara, anyway. That was different.

 

Buffy slid back into the passenger seat of the Desoto, holding the tranq gun. “Let’s go.”

 

“Where are we going?” he asked.

 

“Near campus,” Buffy replied. “There’s a cavern where Oz built a cage.”

 

“Sounds cozy.”

 

“It’s only three nights out of the month,” Buffy said defensively.

 

Spike shrugged. “Not criticizing, pet. Just grateful that I’m not the one spending my nights in a cage, even if it is only three nights.”

 

“Let’s just hope that Oz hasn’t escaped yet.” Buffy looked a little sick. “I don’t know what I would tell Willow if—”

 

“Stop it,” Spike said firmly. “Let’s not borrow trouble. We’re not even there yet.”

 

“You’re right.” Buffy took a deep breath. “You’re absolutely right.” She pointed. “That lot’s closest.”

 

Spike pulled into the parking lot and found the nearest free space. “I’ve got your back, Slayer.”

 

She led the way, with Spike at her heels. He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to help, since Buffy was the one with the tranq gun. As they neared the cave, Buffy picked up her pace. Spike wondered what it would do to her if she couldn’t prevent this from happening.

 

Not for the first time did Spike wonder if it would have been easier if they’d arrived at the time that they’d planned. Then, there would have been only one event to stop, and the immediate knowledge of success—or failure.

 

Buffy skidded to a halt inside the cave, and Spike saw the open cage door immediately. “Let’s go,” he said.

 

“Can we find them?”

 

“Hell if I know, but we’ve got to try, don’t we?” he asked. “Besides, if we don’t find them tonight, we can track them down during the day and make sure they stay separated.”

 

“Good plan.” She gave him a hopeful look. “Do you think you can track Oz by scent?”

 

Spike wished he could tell her otherwise. “It’s not clear enough. Vampires track humans through fear or blood, and unless he’s hurt, the wolf isn’t giving off either of those.”

 

“Crap.” Buffy sighed. “Okay. We’ll do it the old fashioned way.” She frowned. “Come on!”

 

She took off at a dead run, and Spike hurried to keep up. “What is it?”

 

“Walsh,” Buffy gasped out. “She said she was attacked by two wild dogs last time. They’ll be around her. She’ll probably be coming out of her building.”

 

“Let’s go,” Spike said grimly, trying to think of the girl whose relationship they were trying to save, rather than the scientist who hadn’t been harmed anyway.

 

Because Spike would have just as soon let the werewolves eat the woman. Or at least bite her. Wouldn’t that be poetic justice?

 

~~~~~

 

Giles handed Buffy a cup of tea, and then looked at Spike. “Would you like a drink?”

 

“That would be nice,” Spike replied fervently.

 

“So, you couldn’t find Oz?” Giles asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “And he hadn’t come back to his dorm yet when we got there. I called Willow and told her not to talk to him. Spike and I are going to try and corner him later. If Oz makes the same choice this time, he’ll lock Veruca in with him.”

 

Giles winced. “And if nothing changes?”

 

“Willow will walk in on them tomorrow morning,” Buffy admitted in a low voice. “And it won’t be pleasant.”

 

“And your plan?” Giles asked. “I assume you have one.”

 

Buffy nodded grimly. “Yeah. I have Oz do the same thing, but this time, I shoot the skank with a dart before she turns, and I lock her up somewhere else.”

 

“Might not be such a good idea for Oz to stay as close to campus as he is, anyway,” Spike pointed out. “No telling whether or not those bastards will find him, and we know what happened the last time.”

 

“Good Lord!” Giles exclaimed. “They captured Oz the last time?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Yeah, but it’s not going to happen. It was a different situation, and it would be months from now. Spike’s right, though. If—if Oz stays in Sunnydale, it would be better if he had a different place. Campus is convenient, but it’s not safe.”

 

Giles shook his head, sitting down wearily. He knew the expression that Buffy wore intimately; she’d looked much the same in the months after Angel had lost his soul. “Whatever happens, Buffy, you mustn’t blame yourself. These are still Oz’s choices, and he’s making them with the understanding that no good will come from them.”

 

His Slayer nodded reluctantly. “I guess.”

 

“No guessing about it, luv.” Spike looked over at her, waiting until she met his eyes. “This isn’t one of those things we can control. Besides, if the worst happens, it may mean that Tara will still be in the picture, and that can’t be a bad thing.”

 

Giles decided that he didn’t want to know who Tara was; he would make his own judgment if—or when—the time came.

 

“Yeah, and if Tara never gets mixed up with Willow, maybe she would survive,” Buffy muttered, unconvinced.

 

Giles frowned. “How many people have died?”

 

“Not that many,” Buffy said, then frowned. “Spike?”

 

He started ticking them off on his fingers. “Your mum and Tara. Well, and _you_. After the First got involved, it got a bit dicier. The potentials were dropping like flies.”

 

Giles shook his head, hardly able to comprehend it all. It seemed as though the next few years were going to be miserable unless they did something to change it. “Whatever you do about Oz and the other werewolf, I will fully support your decision, Buffy. You have more information than I do, and I know you’ll make the right choice.”

 

“I wish I could be so sure,” Buffy replied, but she managed a smile for him. “I should get back to the dorm. I’ve still got classes today.”

 

“I’ll drive you,” Spike stated.

 

Giles watched as they walked out of his flat, Spike’s hand resting on the small of Buffy’s back. Instead of flinching away from his touch as he might have expected her to do, she leaned into the vampire.

 

“It could be worse,” Giles reminded himself. “It could be Angel.”

 

~~~~~

 

Willow frowned. “Why shouldn’t I go see Oz today? Is it the outfit?” She looked down at herself. The bright colors that Willow typically favored had been replaced by a dark purple blouse and dark green leather pants.

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, Will. The outfit looks really good. Not your usual thing, but it looks good.”

 

“You don’t think Oz will like it, then,” Willow supplied.

 

Buffy sighed. “Oz got out last night.”

 

Willow sat down on her bed. “What do you mean?”

 

Buffy hated this part. She wanted Oz to explain that he and Veruca had done the wild thing, rather than letting her best friend know that she’d completely failed. If only she’d remembered that it was the faulty cage door that had started it all.

 

“The hinges on the door broke last night, Will. Oz got out, and Spike and I couldn’t find him in time.”

 

“In time for what?” Willow demanded, her voice rising. “What happened?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy replied truthfully. “Well, I’m pretty sure that they scared the crap out of Professor Walsh, but other than that—”

 

Willow looked crushed. “You said ‘they.’ It’s Veruca, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah,” Buffy said gently. “I’m sorry, Will. This is my fault. I should have remembered about the door. If I had—”

 

Willow shook her head emphatically. “No, Buffy. It’s not your fault. You can’t remember everything. What—what are you going to do?”

 

“I’m going to make sure Veruca doesn’t have another shot at him, and then I’m going to make sure she leaves town.” Buffy smiled grimly. “It’s probably a good thing that Spike’s on our side this time around. I think between the two of us we can convince her that Sunnydale isn’t the best place for her.”

 

Willow nodded hesitantly. “What should I do, Buffy?”

 

Buffy didn’t know what to tell her. To a certain extent, what had happened up to this point wasn’t exactly Oz’s fault. He wasn’t in control of himself while a werewolf, and he _had_ locked himself up, so it wasn’t like he’d set out to cheat on his girlfriend.

 

On the other hand, Buffy knew that if she didn’t confront him, Oz would conceal what had happened from Willow, and would lie to her about not knowing who the other werewolf was.

 

“I don’t know, Will,” Buffy finally said. “You’re going to have to talk to Oz about that, but first we have to deal with Veruca.”

 

And Buffy wasn’t so sure that Veruca would be so easily persuaded to leave town.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike regarded the young man impassively, although he could smell the guilt. Having been cheated on in the past, Spike’s sympathies lay with Willow at the moment. “Do you know who the other wolf is, Oz?” Buffy asked.

 

Oz didn’t meet her eyes. It was apparent to Spike that he didn’t want to tell the truth, but that he knew there was no choice. After all, not only was Buffy well aware of who the other werewolf was, but she also knew exactly what had happened, having the benefit of hindsight. “You know who it is, Buffy,” Oz finally said, his voice low and angry.

 

Spike knew that feeling; it was the desperation of someone who feels trapped.

 

“Yeah, I do, but I was hoping that you’d tell me this time,” Buffy replied. “Look, Oz, maybe you need to get out of town for a while. For all I know, the best thing for everybody is for you to leave so you can bring the wolf under control. But I am _not_ going to let Willow walk in on the two of you tomorrow morning because you were too much of a coward to either tell me about Veruca, or tell her no.”

 

Oz was silent for a long moment. “Is that what happens?”

 

“That’s what happens,” Buffy confirmed. “And then Veruca tries to kill Willow, and you kill her. I don’t think you want that either.” When Oz shook his head, Buffy took a deep breath. “I think it’s best that when Veruca comes here tonight, we’re here to meet her. Spike pointed out that being on campus isn’t the safest place for you.”

 

“Where am I going to be?” Oz asked.

 

Spike spoke up for the first time. “Here. You’re the bait.”

 

Oz didn’t look happy about that plan, but he didn’t argue. “And after?”

 

“It’s only one night,” Spike said. “We’ve got time to find a more permanent solution.”

 

He was grateful that Oz didn’t argue with them. Spike knew that the last thing Buffy wanted was to be forced to treat one of her friends as the enemy; she’d already had a taste of what that was like. Once the cage door had been fixed, there wasn’t much to do or say, however.

 

Oz was apparently the silent type, and Spike wasn’t comfortable holding a personal conversation with Buffy in front of someone he didn’t know well. That left all of them to wait in silence.

 

Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait long for Veruca to show up.

 

“So, this is where you cage yourself up?” Veruca asked as she walked through the door, too intent on Oz to notice Spike or Buffy.

 

“It’s safer,” Oz replied.

 

“You weren’t meant for this kind of life,” she insisted. “We were meant to run free.”

 

“Oz knows what would happen if he didn’t cage himself up,” Buffy said, stepping out of the shadows. “He’d have the Slayer to deal with.”

 

Veruca scoffed. “What are you going to do? You can’t stop the change.”

 

“No, but we can make sure you aren’t awake for it,” Spike said, raising the tranq gun and firing a dart before she could register what it was he was doing.

 

The woman went down hard. “She is _such_ a skank,” Buffy spat, then turned to look at Oz. “We’ll take care of her.”

 

Oz nodded. “Don’t hurt her.”

 

“No more than we have to,” Buffy said. “Trust me, Oz. She’s not a nice person. If we didn’t step in, she would have no problem killing Willow to get to you.”

 

Oz backed up into the cage, slamming the door shut behind him. “Where are you taking her?”

 

“Somewhere she can’t do any harm,” Buffy replied. “Don’t worry about it. Spike? Would you stay with Oz tonight?”

 

Spike didn’t like the idea of Buffy staying with Veruca alone, but he understood why she had asked him to stay. There was no sense in risking Oz getting out again, or the Initiative stumbling across the cage. Since Walsh had seen the werewolves the night before, it was entirely possible that the soldiers would be out in force.

 

“I’ll stay,” Spike said. “But you’d best get someone to stay with you. Don’t want you caught alone with that bitch.”

 

She offered him a reassuring smile. “Giles is going to meet me there. He claimed to be bored anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

 

She turned back to Veruca’s still form at the same time that the sun finally descended below the horizon. The girl’s transformation occurred without a whimper, but Spike heard Oz slam against the bars of the cage.

 

Spike tossed the gun to Buffy. “Just in case. Think I can deal with Teen Wolf there, and I don’t have to worry about getting bit.”

 

Buffy nodded reluctantly. “Okay, but be careful.”

 

“You too.” Spike watched as she slung the body of the werewolf over her shoulder and left the cave. He heard Oz slam against the bars behind him yet again. “Yeah, know how you feel,” Spike said conversationally. “It’s never pleasant to be put inside a cage.”

 

Not even when it was the best thing for everyone concerned.


	9. Picking Up the Pieces

Giles rubbed his eyes, and then looked at his watch. “Only a few more minutes.”

 

“Good.” Buffy sighed. “I wonder how Spike is doing.”

 

“I’m sure he’s fine, Buffy.” Giles waved at their surroundings. “Spike has some protection.”

 

Buffy held up the tranq gun. “So do we.”

 

The crypt they had found to chain Veruca up in wasn’t terribly secure, if only because there were no barriers; if the werewolf broke the chains, they would just have to hope they got off a quick shot.

 

Of course, Buffy had brought extra darts with her, and she had every intention of shooting Veruca again at the first sign of movement. There was no point taking unnecessary risks.

 

She still had no idea how to make sure that Veruca left town. The first time around, the girl had been prepared to murder Willow in order to get Oz.

 

As the first rays of the sun lit the crypt, the werewolf’s form shifted, and Veruca lay naked on the cold, stone floor. Giles turned away at once, like the gentleman he was. Buffy tossed a blanket over her that she’d brought for that purpose.

 

Veruca began to stir slowly, the chains clanking. “What—”

 

“We take werewolves at large very seriously in this town,” Buffy said. “The way I see it, you have two choices. You either get your own cage, or you leave.”

 

Veruca’s eyes burned. “You can’t make me.”

 

“You wanna bet?” Buffy asked. “I’m the Slayer, which makes this my responsibility. The fact that you were after my best friend’s boyfriend makes it even more of my problem.”

 

Veruca stood, letting the blanket drop, unashamed of her nudity. “Well, if your friend can’t satisfy him—”

 

Buffy had no hesitation. She slammed Veruca back against the wall, tightening her grip around the other woman’s throat just enough to demonstrate her power, but not enough to cut off her air supply. “Let me put it this way. I don’t like you, and I happen to know that you’d kill Willow if given half a chance. That’s why you’re staying here until the full moon passes, and then you’re going to leave town.”

 

“And if I don’t?” Veruca asked with a sneer.

 

Buffy smiled grimly. “I would have absolutely no problem driving you to the middle of the desert and leaving you there.”

 

The idea of essentially forcing Veruca out of town wasn’t a pleasant one, but Buffy knew that it might be necessary. She’d learned quite a bit about expediency in the last few years.

 

Besides, Buffy knew that if Veruca continued to pursue her present path, she would eventually kill someone. That wasn’t going to happen in Buffy’s town.

 

Her threat seemed to get Veruca’s attention. The Slayer suspected that the woman was interested in self-preservation first and foremost. “Well?”

 

“I want you to leave town and not return. If I see you here again, you won’t get a warning. You’ll just get your ass kicked.” Buffy shoved her against the wall again for emphasis, causing the chains to rattle.

 

There was a long pause, and then Veruca finally nodded. “Fine.”

 

“Good.” Buffy turned to her Watcher. “Let’s go, Giles.”

 

“You’re just leaving me here?” Veruca demanded, straining against the chains.

 

Buffy glanced over her shoulder. “Yep. I thought I’d give you time to think, and there’s no way I’m letting you wander around tonight.”

 

She walked out, Giles following closely, and Veruca shouting her protests. “You can’t leave me here by myself! I’ve got things to do! I’ll get you for this!”

 

“Do you really think this is wise?” Giles asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

 

“What else am I going to do?” Buffy asked. “I can’t trust her to stay away from Oz and Willow, and I’m certainly not going to hang out with her all day.”

 

“What if she escapes?” Giles raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps someone should be watching her.”

 

Buffy made a face. “Crap. I want to check on Spike, and I’ve still got classes today.”

 

“I’ll stay for a couple of hours, but then I really do need to get some sleep,” he insisted. “I’m not as young as I once was.”

 

“Thanks, Giles,” Buffy said. “I’ll talk to Spike. He might be willing to stay here while I’m in class today, and then I can take his spot.”

 

“And when are you going to sleep?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “I’ve gone without sleep for longer.”

 

“Hmm.” Giles didn’t appear convinced, but he wasn’t going to argue. “I’ll see you later then?”

 

“Tomorrow, probably, once I’ve made sure that Veruca’s gone for good.” Buffy shook her head. “I just hope that Oz and Willow can work things out.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike glanced up as Willow entered the cavern, carrying a thermos and a paper sack. “Is he—”

 

“He’s fine,” Spike said quietly. “Not quite awake yet, though.”

 

“What about Veruca?”

 

“Buffy’s taken care of her,” Spike said. “She’s where she won’t do any damage.”

 

“Willow?” Oz called.

 

“I brought breakfast,” she said, looking at Spike.

 

He took the hint. “I’m going to be outside. I’ve got the car if you two want a ride somewhere.” Spike sat down under a nearby tree and leaned up against the trunk wearily. A little over a week, and he was exhausted again, although he didn’t hurt like he had. Not even the Gem of Amara could change the fact that he hadn’t slept in two days.

 

“Hey there.” Buffy sat down next to him. “How’d it go?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Fine. You?”

 

“Veruca made a lot of noise when I left her chained up, but I think she’ll leave town. She knows what’s going to happen if she doesn’t.”

 

“What is going to happen?” he asked, wondering what the Slayer had planned.

 

Buffy sighed. “Well, I threatened to take her to the middle of the desert and leave her there.”

 

Spike winced. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

 

“What else am I supposed to do with her, Spike? It’s not like I can kill her while she’s in human form, but I can’t really force her to leave Sunnydale, either. If she really believes I’d dump her in the desert, she’ll leave town on her own.” Buffy leaned her head against his shoulder. “Is Willow here already?”

 

Spike nodded. “You knew she was going to come?”

 

“She did last time.”

 

There was a long pause as they both considered the ramifications of that statement. It was becoming clear that there were events that couldn’t be altered.

 

“I told Giles that you would take over watching the crypt for him,” Buffy finally said. “He was worried about the skank escaping if we left her alone.”

 

“Probably best,” Spike agreed. “You gonna get some sleep, then?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I’ve got classes. I’ll come by after and relieve you.”

 

Spike set his jaw stubbornly. “You’ll get some sleep first, and then you can come by.”

 

“What about you?” Buffy asked. “You’ve been awake as long as I have.”

 

“So? Vampire, here. Don’t need as much kip. Besides, once you get there, I can sleep a bit, and we’ll find somebody else to watch the boy tonight.”

 

“I’ll stick with Oz tonight,” Willow announced, as she and Oz exited the cavern. Her eyes were a little red, and Spike could see the anger in her expression, but she was composed. “Thanks for doing this, Buffy. And Spike.”

 

Buffy smiled. “What else are friends for?”

 

Spike just shrugged. “It wasn’t much.”

 

Willow met Oz’s eyes. “I think it was a lot.”

 

~~~~~

 

It hurt. It hurt a lot, actually, even though Willow knew that Oz had only been with Veruca while in wolf form. He hadn’t pursued a relationship with the other werewolf, although Willow was aware that there had been occasions recently when he hadn’t gone out of his way to avoid her.

 

Maybe she should have expected this. Willow couldn’t believe that she’d actually thought that her attractions would be enough to hold Oz. Time after time, she’d marveled at her good fortune, and now it was turning.

 

“I’m sorry.” They were standing in his room. Buffy had a class, but Willow still had some time. Oz was trying to apologize, but Willow didn’t know how “sorry” would ever make this right.

 

She might not have much hope left for their future, but she still wanted desperately to work it out.

 

“I know.” Willow took a deep breath. “Would you really have locked her in there with you? Even though Buffy warned you about what could happen?”

 

“I don’t know,” Oz replied. “I couldn’t let her…” He trailed off.

 

Willow shook her head. “What are you going to do?”

 

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “I love you, but—I’ve got to get this thing under control, Willow. I—I couldn’t help myself with her. There was something that drew me, and I need to know what it was.”

 

Willow could have told him what it was. It was the same thing that seemed to draw every male eye towards her; Willow had noticed Veruca’s effect on every man inside the Bronze the last time they’d heard her sing. She had an animal magnetism to her presence that Willow lacked.

 

“I want to get past this,” Willow said.

 

Oz wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I need some time to think.”

 

Willow fought back the tears. “How much time?”

 

He shook his head. “A day?”

 

Willow wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She ran out, blinking rapidly. She hurried back to her room and began to get her books together for class, trying to focus on the reading she’d done.

 

Trying, and failing.

 

Willow sank down on her bed and buried her face in her hands, the tears coming hot and heavy. She had no idea how she was supposed to live her life without Oz. What if he left for good?

 

“Will?” She looked up to see Buffy in the doorway. Her friend rushed to her side, immediately putting an arm around her shoulders. “What happened?”

 

“Oz said he needed some time.” Willow leaned her head against Buffy’s shoulder. “He said he needed to control the wolf. I think he’s going to leave Sunnydale.”

 

“I know.” Buffy rubbed Willow’s back soothingly. “It’s going to be okay.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Willow objected.

 

Buffy sighed. “Yes, actually, I do.”

 

Willow stared at her, realizing that Buffy was right. “What—what happened?”

 

“Will—”

 

“I need to know.”

 

Buffy looked torn. “Last time, Oz left, and you ended up falling for someone else. Then Oz came back.”

 

“For me?” Willow asked.

 

“For you.” Buffy smiled sympathetically. “After he learned to control himself.”

 

“Completely?”

 

“Yeah.” Buffy stood and rummaged around in their small fridge. “Well, almost. I think it worked out for the best.” She sat back down next to her on the bed. “It’s going to work out this time, too.”

 

Willow took the soda she offered, wishing that Buffy’s words were more comforting. “Why doesn’t it feel that way now?”

 

“Because it never does,” Buffy said, hugging her once again.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike watched the crypt through half-closed eyes, trying to stay awake. It wouldn’t do to let the girl get away from him. She would start yelling again every so often, but he’d ignored her. There was no point in engaging an angry werewolf, and Buffy would kill him if he looked at her twice.

 

Not that it was a hardship to be sitting outside on such a beautiful day.

 

“Hey there,” Buffy said, sitting down in front of the neighboring tombstone. “How’s our ‘ho doing?”

 

Spike cocked his head. “You really don’t like her, do you?”

 

“In girl terms, Veruca committed the ultimate sin,” Buffy pointed out. “She went after my best friend’s boyfriend. That would automatically make her public enemy number one, even if she hadn’t tried to kill Willow.”

 

Spike had to concede her point; he had experienced Buffy’s jealousy first-hand after his dalliance with Anya, even if he still maintained that he was the one in the right. The fact that Anya had been one of her friends, and that she’d had to witness them having sex had probably made matters worse, though.

 

“How are we playing this?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy shrugged. “We make sure she doesn’t get loose, and then we make sure that she leaves town tomorrow.”

 

“You think she’s gonna leave without a fight?”

 

“No idea.” Buffy smiled at him. “I thought that you might be able scare her off, though. It’s one thing to feel powerful when you’ve got the full moon on your side, but _you_ don’t need the full moon.”

 

“Damn straight,” Spike agreed.

 

“Why don’t you take a nap?” Buffy suggested. “I’ll keep watch.”

 

“And you?” Spike asked. “I know you haven’t gotten a chance to sleep yet.”

 

Buffy shrugged. “I’ll wake you up in a couple of hours, and we can switch.”

 

Spike would have preferred to take the first watch, but he could see by the set of Buffy’s chin that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Yeah, all right,” he agreed, slouching down against the headstone. Given Spike’s exhaustion, it took only seconds for sleep to claim him.

 

When Spike awoke, the sun was going down, and Buffy was nowhere to be seen. “Buffy?”

 

The Slayer came out of the crypt. “We’ve got a problem,” she announced.

 

Spike frowned, his mind still fuzzy from sleep. He was astounded that Buffy hadn’t woken him. “What happened?”

 

Buffy reached down to haul him to his feet. “I checked on her an hour ago, and she was still chained up. Now, she’s gone.”

 

“She’s gone?” Spike echoed, hurrying to keep up. “Bloody hell. How’d she manage to escape?”

 

“Hell if I know,” Buffy snapped. “Where would she go?”

 

Spike’s eyes widened. “Where did she go last time?”

 

Buffy caught on quickly. “Oh, no. Willow.”

 

They both took off running in the direction of campus, where Oz would just be locking himself up for the night. “What are we going to do when we find her?” Spike asked.

 

“That depends on how much damage she’s managed to do,” Buffy replied grimly.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow had made certain to time her appearance so that Oz would already be in the cage. She didn’t want him to think that she was stalking him, or trying to force the issue. Willow recalled from high school, after he’d caught her kissing Xander, that he’d needed time to work through things and make a decision.

 

“I told Buffy that I’d stay with you tonight,” Willow reminded him when Oz caught sight of her. She set the tranq gun down on the ground.

 

Oz nodded. “Thanks.”

 

“No big deal.”

 

Neither of them spoke, and silence between them had never been quite so uncomfortable before.

 

“I thought I’d find the little woman here.” Veruca’s voice echoed off the stone walls, her mocking tone setting Willow’s teeth on edge.

 

Willow whirled to face the other woman. “What are you doing?”

 

“Getting a little of my own back.” Veruca smiled cruelly. “Your friend thinks she owns this town.”

 

“She does,” Willow shot back. “She’s the Slayer, and when she gets her hands on you—”

 

“You’ll already be dead.” Veruca’s face began to shift.

 

Willow heard the squeak of the iron door, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Oz standing there, his fists clenched. “You first,” he said, stepping out of the cage, even as the change overtook him.

 

Willow dove for the tranq gun, scrambling out of the way of the two werewolves. She knew that she couldn’t allow them out of the cave, but she didn’t want to hit Oz with a dart before Veruca was sedated.

 

Granted, Oz wouldn’t hesitate to kill her while in wolf form, but she’d take her chances with him before Veruca.

 

Bringing the rifle up to her shoulder, Willow tried to keep her hands steady as she drew a bead on the tangle of fur and limbs. She could hear the yowls and cries as they bit and clawed each other, but she had no idea who was winning.

 

There was a howl of pain, and then silence, broken only by harsh panting. Willow held her breath, watching as one of the werewolves raised its head from the still form of the other. It only took her a split second to recognize that the surviving werewolf was Oz, then she pulled the trigger.

 

He went down hard, and Willow rested her head on her knees, beginning to sob from fear and shock.

 

“Willow?” Buffy came rushing through the door, immediately going to her side. “Are you hurt?”

 

Willow shook her head. “Oz took care of her.”

 

Spike was kneeling next to the two werewolves. “This one’s alive,” he said, beginning to haul Oz to the cage.

 

“That’s Oz,” Willow said, hiccupping. “The other one’s Veruca.”

 

“We’ll take care of her body,” Buffy said. “You should go back to the dorm and try to sleep.”

 

Willow shook her head. “Someone should stay with Oz.”

 

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Buffy insisted.

 

Willow was adamant. “You guys must be exhausted.”

 

“I’m not,” Spike said. “Since I had that nice nap.”

 

Willow didn’t quite understand the disgruntled look that Spike was giving Buffy, but she shook her head. “I don’t—”

 

“I’ll take care of Veruca and call Xander to come stay with you,” Buffy said. “How’s that?”

 

Willow nodded, accepting the compromise. It was clear that Buffy wasn’t prepared to let her stay by herself.

 

Buffy dragged Veruca’s body out of the cave. Willow stayed on the floor, a little surprised when Spike sat down next to her. “You okay, pet?” he asked gently.

 

She began nodding, and then shook her head. “No.”

 

He patted her shoulder tentatively. “Sorry we couldn’t fix this for you.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Willow insisted tearfully. “You guys tried.”

 

“Still feel like we should have done more,” Spike muttered.

 

Willow shook her head. “You can’t fix everything.”

 

She knew that all too well.


	10. A Step in the Right Direction

Buffy stood in the doorway, watching Oz pack a bag. She’d somehow known that this was coming as soon as Willow had told her that he’d had lunch with Veruca. Oz’s choice raised the specter of failure; what if her trip to the past had no effect on the future?

 

“You’re leaving.”

 

He didn’t turn around. “I have to get this thing under control.”

 

“I know,” Buffy said. “But I think you should know something.” She waited until he turned to face her. “If you leave, and you don’t keep in touch with Willow, she _will_ move on. Maybe you want that; I don’t know.”

 

Oz swallowed. “Thanks.”

 

“Willow’s going to be here any minute,” she said. “I should go.”

 

“This wasn’t your fault,” Oz called after her. “What happened.”

 

Buffy nodded. “I know.”

 

It wasn’t so much about “fault” as it was about being powerless to stop what she knew was coming.

 

She couldn’t go back to the dorm room right away. Buffy knew that Willow would need time to cry, and then to compose herself. She hoped that this time, at least, Oz would write, or send a postcard, or _something_ to let Willow know that he hadn’t forgotten her.

 

Although even if he didn’t, Buffy knew that it was likely that Tara would still come along.

 

“Hey! Buffy!”

 

She turned to see Riley jogging up the path towards her. Buffy had been deliberately avoiding him over the last couple of weeks. She hated the idea of having to turn him down, and she thought that the best way to avoid it was to ensure that she showed no interest in him. She hoped that he would get the picture and not even bother to ask her out.

 

Managing a smile for him, Buffy asked, “What’s up, Riley?”

 

“I, uh, just wanted to be sure you were okay with leading a discussion next week,” Riley said. “You did really well on that paper.”

 

Buffy shrugged. She remembered that she’d been nervous about it the last time, but it was a different story now. “I’m not too worried about it.” At his surprised expression, she quickly added, “I feel like I’m prepared.”

 

“Oh, well, that’s great,” Riley said. “If you need any help—”

 

“I’ll be sure to let you know,” Buffy said. “That’s what a TA is there for, right?”

 

Riley nodded, his hopeful expression changing to mild disappointment as he got her message. “Right. You know when my office hours are.”

 

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. Knowing Riley, he wouldn’t try flirting again, now that she’d effectively shut him down. In a way, she felt bad. Riley hadn’t been a _bad_ boyfriend, at least not up until the end. He’d been sweet and mostly normal, and he really had tried to be supportive. In the end, though, they hadn’t been right for each other.

 

A theory that was confirmed when he’d returned to Sunnydale less than a year after he’d left with a new wife in tow.

 

“What did the enormous hall monitor want?”

 

Buffy was somehow not surprised to find Spike strolling next to her. “He just wanted to check to see if I was okay with a class assignment,” she replied. “No big deal.” When Spike didn’t appear convinced, Buffy rolled her eyes. “What Riley and I had is definitely over, Spike. Please don’t get all insecure about this. He’s my TA; I’m going to be seeing him around.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Sorry, luv. I have a hard time being comfortable around somebody who staked me.”

 

“When was that?” Buffy asked. “You never told me.”

 

“Why would I?” Spike snorted. “You blamed me for him leaving, and it was a plastic stake made to look like a wooden one. Hurt like the devil, but it wasn’t fatal. Obviously.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Why would Riley be carrying something like that around?” she asked. “It wouldn’t—” She swallowed as she realized that the sole purpose of a weapon like that was to cause a lot of pain and damage, without causing death. “Never mind.”

 

“People change, luv.” Spike’s voice was gentle as he sensed her upset.

 

“Or I bring out the worst in men,” Buffy said glumly.

 

Spike shook his head. “Love brings out the best and the worst in us, Buffy. Makes us gods, and it makes us monsters at times. That’s just the way it works.”

 

Buffy knew that Spike was thinking of the attack in her bathroom, but his words brought to mind his bruised and swollen face in the alley behind the police station. “Oz is leaving today.”

 

“Did you talk to him?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy nodded. “I don’t know if I got through, though.”

 

Spike put an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

 

“Just to let you know, I’m going to the Bronze with Xander and Willow tomorrow night. Would you mind meeting me at mom’s house for patrol a little later than usual?” Buffy said.

 

She couldn’t quite read the expression that flitted across his face, but he acquiesced graciously enough. “Sure. I can do that.”

 

“Do you want to have dinner with Mom and me tonight?” Buffy asked. “She’s still planning on going to Aunt Darlene’s this year.”

 

“Why don’t you go with her?” Spike suggested. “Spend some time with family.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I think Mom wants some time alone with her. Aunt Darlene just went through a messy divorce, and she doesn’t have anybody nearby.”

 

Spike winced. “Must be rough.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Of course, that means I won’t have classes for a few days, and no one will know or care if I’m not sleeping in the dorms.”

 

“Red?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “She’s going to stay at her parents’ house. I think she wants to get away from campus for a while, with the whole Oz missage. Last time, she at least had a single friend to lean on.”

 

“If you need to spend time with her—” Spike began.

 

“I’ll let you know,” Buffy promised. “But until then, I just want to walk in the sun with my boyfriend.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike knew what they said about gift horses and beggars. He knew that he should simply take what Buffy offered him and not question her motives, nor should he be waiting for the other shoe to drop. After all, their relationship was better now than it had ever been. She told him that she enjoyed his company, in addition to seeking him out. Buffy had told her friends and family that they were dating.

 

So he should just be grateful.

 

Right?

 

The problem was that every time Buffy had been nice to him in the past, she’d followed it up with a kick in the teeth. Just when Spike believed that he was winning her over, Buffy pulled back. That was why he was waiting for her to do the same now.

 

He couldn’t help but think that Buffy needed him because he was the only one who knew where she was coming from, who shared the same memories. Spike was the only one who knew who Dawn was at the moment, who had lived through Joyce’s death, and through Buffy’s.

 

The problem was that those were all the shared experiences of comrades in arms, and not necessarily lovers. In truth, Spike was waiting for the “let’s just be friends” speech, and he was certain that it would kill him.

 

When Buffy had told him that she was meeting Xander and Willow at the Bronze, and that she would be going alone, it felt just like old times. She was shutting him out again, only this time he wouldn’t be begging for her attention, or trying to seduce her on the catwalk.

 

Spike would be going to the one woman who had always listened to him, although he had no plans to tell her what was bothering him.

 

After all, how could you complain about your girlfriend to her mother?

 

~~~~~

 

Giles was just a little surprised at how quickly he’d grown used to Spike’s presence. Of course, Buffy seemed more invested in her training, and in utilizing his services as her Watcher than before the spell, and that eased his mind.

 

Although it wasn’t precisely clear what Spike had to do with her change in attitude, Giles knew that Buffy had invested in being the Slayer in a way she never had been previously.

 

So, when Buffy showed up alone, Giles was a little surprised. “Where’s Spike?” he asked.

 

Buffy shrugged. “Xander and I are taking Willow to the Bronze tonight to try to get her mind off of Oz leaving, and Spike is meeting my mom for hot chocolate.”

 

“Spike and your mother?” Giles asked in surprise.

 

“They’ve got something,” Buffy explained. “They always have. It’s not romantic or anything, but it’s something, and he didn’t get to spend a lot of time with her the last time around.”

 

Giles frowned. “Why is that?”

 

“Because I ran him off,” she admitted candidly.

 

“Have you thought any more about what’s coming, Buffy?” Giles asked. He’d taken notes, but there still appeared to be quite a few gaps in her story.

 

Buffy frowned, leaning back into her chair. “Um, I think we’ve got Native American spirits for Thanksgiving next. Spike got captured and chipped last time around, but that’s not going to be an issue.”

 

“What are you going to do about the spirits?” Giles asked. “Can they be killed?”

 

Buffy nodded. “Preferably without them killing Professor Gerhardt and Father Gabriel first. We’re also having Thanksgiving dinner here, by the way, since Mom’s going to Aunt Darlene’s. And when Angel shows up, you can tell him that I know he’s here, and I will kick his ass if he doesn’t go back to Los Angeles immediately.”

 

Giles’ eyebrows went up at her vehement tone. “I see. Angel’s coming here?”

 

“His friend is going to get a vision of me in trouble, and Angel’s going to come to the rescue without telling me that he’s in town.” Buffy’s eyes glittered angrily. “It pissed me off the first time, but I’ve had enough of people doing things ‘for my own good.’” Her tone of voice indicated that she was quoting from someone.

 

Giles wondered if some of her anger was directed at him, regarding actions that he had yet to perform. He’d had the feeling on occasion that their relationship had become strained, although he hadn’t the nerve to ask why.

 

Perhaps it was better to know, however. If he understood his own motivations, he might be less inclined to make the same mistakes again. “And do I figure into that statement somewhere, Buffy?” he asked gently.

 

She started guiltily. “I’m sorry, Giles. That’s not fair, since it’s not about anything you’ve done yet.”

 

“But I did,” he prompted, hoping that she would explain.

 

“You left.” She rose from her seat and walked over to the window. “Mom died, and then I died to save Dawn, and you left Sunnydale. Which I get, I do. It’s just that after I came back, I needed you, and you left, because you thought I needed to take responsibility for things.

 

“Maybe I did, but it still felt like…” Buffy trailed off.

 

“Like I’d abandoned you?” Giles asked, knowing his Slayer well enough by now to know what that would have looked like to her. Of course, he was equally certain that he would not have left Sunnydale if he didn’t have a good reason for doing so.

 

But he knew what was said about good intentions.

 

“I’m sorry, Buffy.” Giles offered his apology for acts he hadn’t yet committed, wondering if it would help her come to terms with what had happened.

 

She shook her head. “It’s okay. It was a rough time for all of us, so it’s not like I can exactly blame you for leaving.”

 

“What do we need to be concerned about after the Native American spirits?” Giles asked, hoping to get Buffy’s mind off of more depressing matters.

 

She shrugged. “There’s the Gentlemen, but Spike and I can take care of them without too much trouble. We’ll know where they’re holed up, and we can break the box and kill them before they hurt anybody.”

 

“That sounds like a workable plan,” Giles agreed.

 

“And hopefully the Gentlemen won’t have a chance to scare off Olivia this time,” Buffy added with a smile.

 

Giles winced. “I see.”

 

“Not that I know why she left for sure,” Buffy hastened to add. “It’s just that we didn’t see her anymore after that.”

 

Giles nodded. “Olivia doesn’t know very much about what I do. I don’t believe that she thinks I’m serious.”

 

“The Hellmouth is a lot to deal with, even if you’ve been raised here,” Buffy agreed. She glanced at the clock. “I’d better get going if I don’t want to be late. Spike and I are going to patrol after I get done at the Bronze, and we’ll fill you in tomorrow.”

 

Giles nodded. “Very well.”

 

“Oh, and one more thing,” Buffy added, glancing at him over her shoulder. “We have some time, but whatever you do—don’t go out drinking with Ethan Rayne.”

 

Giles frowned as the door closed behind her. He had a hard time believing that he’d do anything with Ethan, other than beat him to a bloody pulp.

 

~~~~~

 

“Thanks for doing this tonight, guys,” Willow said, knowing that both Xander and Buffy had given up an evening with their respective significant others.

 

Xander shrugged. “Anything for you, Will. You know that. Have you heard anything from Oz yet?”

 

Willow shook her head, trying to appear hopeful. “No, but it hasn’t been that long. He probably just hasn’t had a chance to send a postcard yet.”

 

“I’m sure that’s it,” Buffy said reassuringly.

 

Xander patted Willow on the shoulder. “Give Oz a chance to get to where he’s going,” he counseled.

 

“He didn’t know where he was going.” That was one of the things that worried Willow. How long was she supposed to wait? Buffy had indicated that Oz would come back, but she had no idea how long it would take, or even if he would return now.

 

Had enough changed that Buffy’s knowledge of the future was no longer good?

 

“Let’s dance,” Buffy suggested.

 

Willow allowed herself to be pulled out onto the dance floor. Xander followed them, beginning to move in that goofy way that he had. Buffy laughed, teasing him about being smooth and asking if Anya had seen him dance yet.

 

“She doesn’t have to see me dance,” Xander retorted. “I’ve got smooth moves other places.”

 

Buffy made a face. “Too much information!” she protested.

 

“What?” Xander asked, pasting a hurt expression on his face. “Does it surprise you to learn that the Xan-man is a regular Casanova?”

 

“A Casanova?” Willow asked skeptically, joining in the teasing. She was reminded of high school, when she and Buffy had given Xander such a hard time about dating Cordelia.

 

At least Cordelia had only been a man-eater metaphorically speaking.

 

“Hey, just because Anya’s the only one who can appreciate my many charms doesn’t mean they don’t exist,” he said.

 

Buffy shrugged. “I guess beauty really is in the eye of the beholder.”

 

Xander clapped a hand over his chest to pantomime being wounded, and Willow smiled, focusing on the banter between friends. For a moment, it was just like old times, before she had fallen in love with Oz, when it was just the three of them.

 

For a moment, Willow was just a girl dancing with her friends, and she could forget her heartache.

 

~~~~~

 

“How is Willow?” Joyce asked.

 

Spike shrugged. “Holding up. Buffy keeps telling her that everything is gonna be fine, and Willow just about believes it. I think it helps for her to know that somebody’s seen what’s coming.”

 

“Buffy’s worried,” Joyce observed. “I could see it when you two had dinner with me last night.”

 

Spike took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Think she’s beginning to realize that there might be things we can’t change is all.”

 

Joyce was quiet for a long moment. “It’s possible that there are some things that shouldn’t be changed,” she pointed out. “What would have happened if Oz had never left?”

 

Spike was quiet for a long moment, considering her question. “Dunno. I suppose Willow never would have been with—with someone else, but I don’t know how that would have affected things.”

 

“I think you need to focus on the events that have to be stopped,” Joyce pointed out. “You and Buffy wanted to return for a particular reason, at a particular point in time. Nothing that has happened or not happened so far is going to change that.”

 

Spike was silent for a long moment, and then he spoke in a low tone, so quietly that Joyce had to strain to catch his words. “I don’t think she could handle losing you again. And if I can’t stop it—if I fail again—”

 

“You won’t.” She spoke with complete conviction. Joyce’s understanding of Spike’s character had led her to the conclusion that he would sooner die than see Buffy come to harm. “Whatever needs to be done to prevent that from happening, I’m sure you two will manage.”

 

She smiled, reaching across the counter to pat his hand. “As for me, I’ve already promised Buffy to be more proactive when the headaches start, and we all know what to look for now.”

 

Spike nodded reluctantly. “Suppose so.”

 

“Now, how are you and Buffy doing?” Joyce asked.

 

Spike frowned, obviously not understanding the question. “What do you mean?”

 

“This kind of situation can put a lot of pressure on a relationship,” Joyce pointed out. “And I have a vested interest in making sure my daughter is happy.”

 

Spike stared down into his hot chocolate, as though trying to scry into the future. “We’re taking things slow,” he admitted finally. “But it’s good. Better than it’s ever been.”

 

Joyce sensed that there was something he wasn’t saying. “But?”

 

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

 

“Spike,” she prompted. “I realize that things were difficult.”

 

Spike rose abruptly. “I should go.”

 

Joyce sighed, knowing that she couldn’t push him anymore. “Sit down, Spike. Isn’t Buffy supposed to be meeting you here?”

 

He sat back down. “Yeah.”

 

“So, why don’t you tell me about this new apartment of yours?” she suggested. “Have you thought about working?”

 

Spike waved a hand. “The apartment’s alright. Nothing special. And what would I do for work? I’m a sodding vampire.” He ducked his head. “Sorry.”

 

Joyce gathered that he was apologizing for swearing, which was rather endearing, although unnecessary. She didn’t think of it as swearing. “I imagine that you could do whatever you wanted,” she replied. “It would depend on what _you_ want.”

 

“Right now, I’m just trying to make sure that Buffy survives,” Spike said. “Once I know she’s going to be okay, maybe I’ll find something else to do with my time.”

 

Wisely, Joyce didn’t press him further. She had a feeling that Spike’s devotion to her daughter would likely prevent him from considering other options for quite some time to come.

 

She heard the front door open, and Buffy’s voice call, “Mom?”

 

“We’re in the kitchen, sweetheart!” Joyce responded.

 

Buffy entered the kitchen with a bright smile. “Ready to patrol, Spike?”

 

“If you are,” he replied, standing. He took his mug to the sink and rinsed it out without Joyce having to prompt him.

 

“I’ll see you both soon,” Joyce said. “You’ll come by before I leave for Darlene’s?”

 

Buffy nodded. “Sure thing, Mom.”

 

“Thanks for the cocoa, Joyce,” Spike said.

 

Joyce watched them leave, feeling a bittersweet pang as she watched Buffy say something to Spike, and his quick grin in response. It was clear that her daughter was happier than she’d been in a long time, and that Spike was responsible for at least part of that.

 

Her daughter was never going to have a normal life; that much was becoming clear. Joyce was beginning to realize that the best she could hope for her daughter was a long life, and not a conventional one.

 

~~~~~

 

“How was your time with Mom?” Buffy asked. Although she didn’t understand the bond between Spike and her mother, she could accept it now as she hadn’t been able to before.

 

In fact, Buffy was grateful for it. Spike would be one more person standing between her mother and Dawn and anything that might come after them.

 

Spike shrugged. “Fine. I like your mum.”

 

“I know you do,” Buffy replied, wondering why he felt the need to assert that fact yet again.

 

“How was Willow?”

 

“Okay.” Buffy turned, leading the way towards Spike’s old cemetery. “Oz still hasn’t contacted her. I think she’s worried that he won’t.”

 

“He might not.”

 

“Yeah.” Buffy tucked her hand through his arm. “I’ll need your backup in a few days.”

 

“You’ve got it,” Spike said.

 

“And I’ll be staying at your place over Thanksgiving weekend.”

 

There was a long pause. “Yeah?”

 

The wariness in his tone surprised her. Buffy had thought they’d moved past that. “If you’re okay with that,” she added.

 

“You can stay wherever you want,” Spike replied evenly.

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “If you’re not ready to move to the next level, just let me know, Spike.”

 

“Didn’t say that.”

 

“Then what are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that you’re calling the shots.”

 

Buffy stopped in her tracks. “Okay. Would you like to tell me what’s bothering you, or should we call it a night?”

 

“Didn’t say that,” Spike said, refusing to meet her eyes as he began to hunt for a cigarette.

 

Buffy didn’t think that he could be any more frustrated than she was, however. “What the hell _are_ you saying, Spike?” she demanded.

 

He glared at her. “You’re the one who’s getting shirty.”

 

“I am _not_ getting ‘shirty,’ whatever that means. You’re the one who’s acting uptight. I just want to know what it’s all about.” Buffy wanted to shake him, to shake the words loose.

 

Spike was acting as skittishly as he had before Willow had done the spell. Buffy had thought that they’d moved past this.

 

“I don’t know what the bloody hell you want!” Spike burst out. “You—you’re being nice! You told your mum about us, and your friends, and I don’t know what the hell you want from me, Buffy!”

 

Buffy blinked. She’d thought she was doing the right thing, that she was healing old wounds, but it appeared that Spike was less able to handle kindness than her anger and abuse.

 

She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

 

“Okay what?” he asked suspiciously.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Let me put this in small words so it’ll penetrate your thick skull. I am glad you came with me. We are in a relationship. If we’ve got a problem, I hope that we’ll talk about it, although I’m not going to hold my breath since you insist on acting like an idiot.”

 

Spike’s expression was sulky. “Well, you’ll excuse me if I don’t quite know what to do. I’m trying to change for you, Buffy, but I don’t know if I’m giving you what you need.”

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spike,” Buffy said, exasperated. “I don’t know what you want to hear me say.”

 

“Just forget it,” Spike muttered.

 

“No,” Buffy insisted. “What do you need me to say, Spike?”

 

“Tell me I’m doing the right thing. Tell me I’ve changed enough, or that I need to change more, or that you want me to do something I’m not doing already.” Spike’s expression was almost desperate.

 

Buffy knew that it was her own mixed signals that had brought this conversation on. How many times had she told Spike no, when she’d meant yes? And how many times had she been kind to him, only to pull the rug out from under his feet? She met his eyes forthrightly. “Do you remember what I said to you in my basement?”

 

Spike shrugged, looking away. “Dunno. You said a lot of things to me in your basement.”

 

“I told you that I believed in you,” Buffy reminded him.

 

His face softened. “I remember.”

 

“When I said that, I meant it. You _have_ changed, Spike. We both have. I’m not asking you to make more changes unless that’s what you want, too.” Buffy still wanted to shake him. She wanted to convince him of her sincerity. Buffy knew that she needed him.

 

And not just to combat the loneliness that came from feeling like a stranger in her own life at times, but because he was important to her.

 

Buffy had finally come to terms with that fact.

 

Spike ducked his head sheepishly. “Yeah, okay. Sorry for being such a prat.”

 

“Yeah, well, I figure that we’ve probably got a few of these conversations before we get through all our baggage,” Buffy replied pragmatically.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Maybe.” He changed the subject. “So, Thanksgiving. You want to stay at my place?”

 

“If you’re okay with that,” Buffy said, feeling a little insecure herself. Although there had been some hot and heavy make-out sessions, and she didn’t doubt that Spike still wanted her, she had to wonder. He hadn’t made any moves on her, not like he had in the past.

 

“Think I can deal with it,” Spike replied, feigning indifference. “Have to stock up on something other than blood.”

 

Buffy smiled, catching the sparkle in his eyes. “Well, we’re cooking at Giles’ place, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take leftovers to yours.”

 

“Looks like we’ve got a deal,” he said, returning her smile.

 

She felt a sense of relief. Buffy didn’t doubt that they would have other fights, other disagreements, but they had cleared the air for tonight at least.

 

Maybe all she could ask for was just one night at a time.


	11. Rekindle the Fire

Buffy had forgotten to warn Xander about the hole in the ground, which she regretted as soon as he disappeared from view.

 

“Where did Xander go?” Anya said, a note of panic in her voice. “He was supposed to be the one digging. No one told me that the digging had been done for him.”

 

“He’s going to be fine,” Buffy assured her. “They’ll pull him out in a minute.

 

It was odd, how much her feelings towards Anya had changed. She had been just as annoyed as Willow when Xander had first begun dating her, but Buffy couldn’t help but remember Anya’s face after the wedding-that-wasn’t.

 

It was another one of those things she hoped that she could change, although after the way things had turned out with Oz, Buffy wasn’t holding her breath.

 

“Are you really doing Thanksgiving at Giles’ place?” Willow asked, her eyes on the men as they pulled Xander out of the hole. “It doesn’t seem right, celebrating the destruction of indigenous peoples.”

 

Buffy hid a smile. “That’s what you said the first time. And, yes, I’m celebrating Thanksgiving. It’s—it’s important to me. The turkey, the pie—it was always one of my favorite holidays as a kid, and I don’t want to skip it this year.”

 

Anya nodded her agreement. “I love a good ritual sacrifice. Especially if there’s pie.”

 

“Ritual sacrifice?” Willow asked.

 

“Yes, the killing and eating of an animal to commemorate a past event,” Anya explained. “It’s a ritual sacrifice. With pie.”

 

Willow made a face. “Which makes my point for me.”

 

“It’s turkey and mashed potatoes, Will,” Buffy coaxed. “And yams. You gotta love the yams.”

 

Willow sighed. “I guess I could be persuaded.”

 

“Good.” Buffy smiled. “Now, I’ve got to go hunt up Spike so we can prevent Professor Gerhardt from being brutally murdered tonight.”

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “That sounds like fun.”

 

Buffy grinned. “It’s with Spike, so it probably will be. Besides, I’m spending the night at his place tonight.”

 

Anya gave her a long, considering look. “I think you will be quite satisfied. Vampires have quite a bit of stamina.”

 

“Don’t I know it,” Buffy replied, with a nostalgic smile.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike looked around his apartment distractedly. He didn’t have much to straighten up, although he felt the need to do something. He’d already cleaned, though, and washed his sheets.

 

He looked down at the new black jeans and blue shirt he was wearing. Should he change? Buffy had mentioned the fact that he needed new clothes, but the last time he’d dressed to impress, it had been disastrous.

 

Taking an unnecessary breath to steady himself, Spike deliberately plopped down on the overstuffed couch and turned the television on. If he thought about the fact that Buffy was actually spending the weekend with him—with everyone knowing about it—he’d probably go crazy.

 

The knock on the door came no sooner than he’d settled on some old war movie that involved a lot of explosions and not nearly enough blood. “It’s open!” he called.

 

Buffy stepped through the door. “Ready to go? I want to make sure we’re there before Hus is.”

 

“Sure.” Spike turned the TV off and grabbed his jacket.

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are those new jeans?”

 

Spike hadn’t thought she’d notice, or care. He shrugged. “Yeah. You said I needed some new stuff, and I have the dosh.”

 

“Maybe we should go shopping this weekend,” Buffy teased. “You know they always have the best sales after Thanksgiving.”

 

Spike winced. He’d heard plenty about that from Harmony—whom he thankfully hadn’t seen since he’d found the ring. “No thanks.”

 

“Oh, come on,” she coaxed, grinning. “It would be fun!”

 

“Don’t think so,” he replied firmly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve got what I need.”

 

Buffy laughed delightedly, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. “I’m giving you a hard time, Spike. You should see the panic on your face when I say ‘shopping.’”

 

A reluctant smile broke out on his face. “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t say those sorts of things to a bloke. Everybody knows that the day after Thanksgiving is the worst.”

 

She smiled smugly. “Don’t worry, Big Bad, I’ve got completely different plans for you after we do the ritual sacrifice.”

 

“Do tell.”

 

“That would spoil the surprise.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Do I wanna be surprised?”

 

Buffy looked up at him, smiling as though she knew a particularly delicious secret. “I don’t think you want to miss it.”

 

Spike had a feeling that she was right.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy knocked, hoping that the professor wouldn’t ignore them. It was getting late, but from what she recalled, Hus wouldn’t be there quite yet.

 

The door opened slightly, and Professor Gerhardt frowned at her. “Can I help you?”

 

Her mind went blank. After years of lying to authority figures, Buffy suddenly couldn’t think of a plausible excuse to be there.

 

“We’re here from the school paper,” Spike said smoothly, his accent more polished than it usually was. “The editor wanted us to get your reaction to today’s discovery before you left town for the holidays.”

 

The professor didn’t appear to be completely convinced, but Buffy was quick to follow it up with, “It would just take a few moments. You have to be excited about the possibilities.”

 

Professor Gerhardt’s face softened considerably. “I am,” she admitted. “Come in. I was just getting ready to leave, but I suppose I have a few minutes.”

 

“If you were getting ready to leave, why don’t you let us walk you to your car?” Spike asked with a smile.

 

Buffy knew that smile. She had personal experience with how difficult it was to say no to Spike when he looked at her like that.

 

Professor Gerhardt was apparently just as susceptible. “Thank you. I would appreciate that.” She frowned. “Didn’t you bring something to write on?”

 

Before Buffy could come up with a plausible explanation for why two journalism majors wouldn’t have a pad and pen—or a tape recorder—she saw a green mist begin to form near the glass cases. “Spike!”

 

“I see it,” he replied, glancing at the professor. “Get behind the desk.”

 

Something about his tone carried enough authority to have her scrambling for cover, and Buffy dashed to the case with the knives, knowing that only Hus’ weapon could kill him.

 

The spirit formed fully, and he stared at her, obviously a little surprised that he was seeing her and not someone else. “Sorry,” Buffy said. “But you don’t get to ruin my Thanksgiving this time around.”

 

Hus didn’t even have to break the glass; his hand passed right through, pulling out a knife. Buffy ducked the arc of the blade as he went for her throat. “Spike! Any time now!”

 

Buffy tried to sweep Hus’ legs out from under him, but he jumped back, out of the way. She heard the crash of broken glass, and Buffy scrambled to her feet just as Spike engaged the spirit with a knife of his own.

 

She was reaching for a weapon when she heard a cry from Hus, closely followed by a surprised yelp from Spike. Buffy turned to see a bear standing where Hus had been. “Spike! You made a bear!”

 

“I’m sorry!” he shouted. “I didn’t—” Spike ducked under the claws and plunged his knife into the bear’s chest. Just as had happened previously, the bear disappeared in a cloud of green smoke. “—mean to,” he finished.

 

“No harm, no foul,” Buffy said, sighing in relief. The relief was closely followed by a sense of triumph as she realized that she’d successfully prevented the deaths of two people.

 

“What _was_ that?” Professor Gerhardt asked.

 

Buffy gave Spike a panicked look. “Um…”

 

Where was a gang on PCP when you needed one?

 

~~~~~

 

It took them a while to convince the professor that everything was fine. Spike had finally spun some tale of eco-terrorists out to destroy her recent finding, and she had bought it. How she explained away the green mist was beyond Spike, but he’d long since given up trying to figure out how the citizens of Sunnydale ignored the strange goings-on.

 

Of course, the fact that they’d nipped that problem in the bud meant that they had nothing to do for the rest of the night.

 

“So, uh, what now?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy looked a little embarrassed. “I don’t know. We could go by my place and pick up my things for this weekend.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Spike turned to walk towards her dorm with her. The night was clear and cool, the stars appearing overhead.

 

Buffy glanced up at him, then away. “Did Mom get off okay?”

 

Spike had agreed to take Joyce to the airport to help her avoid the cost of leaving her car at the lot. “Yeah. Didn’t seem like she was happy to be leaving you over the holidays, but knowing you had plans made it easier.”

 

“Good.” There was an uncomfortable pause, then Buffy rolled her eyes. “This is stupid,” she announced.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “What’s stupid?”

 

“We are.” She stopped. “Are you ready for this?”

 

Spike knew what she was referring to immediately. They’d taken the physical aspect of their relationship slow this time; Buffy hadn’t spent the night, much less the weekend yet. “Are you?” he countered. “It’s your call to make, pet.”

 

“No, it’s not,” she said stubbornly. “We’re both in this together. I think I’ve made my intentions clear. I’m asking if you’re okay with this.”

 

“’Course I am,” Spike replied. “I told you that I always want you.”

 

Buffy looked him straight in the eyes. “The feeling is mutual.”

 

Spike had been cautious about making the first move; he hadn’t wanted to overstep his bounds again. He could see the emotion in her eyes that said she wanted him—and not just to make herself feel. Spike captured her mouth with his, keeping his touch light until he felt her pulling him closer, pulling him deeper.

 

Buffy’s hands gripped his shoulders, and he could feel her strength. She wasn’t using him this time; there was no desperation in the way she held him. They were both standing on solid ground.

 

He lost himself in her touch, in her taste. Spike could smell her shampoo, her sweat, the lingering scent of the lotion she’d used that morning. His hand cupped her face; he reveled at the opportunity to be tender with her.

 

When Buffy finally broke off the kiss to breath, she looked up at him with dazed eyes. “Okay. We have two choices. My place or yours.”

 

Spike grinned. “My bed is bigger.”

 

“Yours, then,” Buffy agreed. “I’ll get my stuff tomorrow.”

 

~~~~~

 

It was wildly different, Buffy realized, and in a sense incredibly strange, to walk into Spike’s apartment and wait as he locked the door behind them. To blink at the sudden change when he turned on the overhead light. To look around a living room that looked like any other bachelor’s pad, with its overstuffed furniture, television, and bare walls. The place needed a woman’s touch, and she realized with a start that she could probably provide it.

 

They could decorate this place together. The very thought brought unexpected tears to her eyes.

 

“Buffy?”

 

Spike looked at her with desire tamped down by concern. “What?”

 

“You’re crying,” he observed. “Are you—”

 

“I’m fine,” Buffy said quickly. “It’s just—did you really give up on the idea of a crypt for two? Or, not a crypt, but…” She waved a hand at the apartment. “This?”

 

Spike’s eyes widened a fraction, taking in her meaning. Buffy could see the hope she’d kindled, then the pure joy. He almost glowed with it, and then Spike took two strides across the room and was there, kissing her desperately.

 

Buffy could feel his strength, the hunger he’d been holding back. She realized how close he’d been to giving up—on her, on living, on everything. She twined her arms around him, ran her hands through the curls at the nape of his neck, spared a moment to wonder who cut his hair.

 

She didn’t know where he got his hair cut, or who bleached it, or if he did it all himself, and she wanted to. Buffy suddenly wanted to know _everything_.

 

Spike steered them around the couch, towards the bedroom. “Wanna try it in a bed this time, Buffy?” he managed to gasp between kisses.

 

“Sure.” Buffy pushed his jacket off his shoulders and felt, rather than saw, him give his arms a shake to leave it on the floor. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. “You have too many clothes.”

 

“Look who’s talking.” Spike pulled back to finish unbuttoning his shirt, then pulled his t-shirt off. “And now you’ve got some catching up to do.”

 

Buffy heard the teasing note in his voice, and she was glad. This felt different. More real, somehow. She felt like a woman with her lover, not a girl with her boyfriend. She kicked off her boots and then began unbuttoning her own shirt—slowly, teasingly.

 

Spike stood stock still, watching her, his alabaster skin gleaming in the light from the living room. He’d removed his boots, and his jeans half-hung on his slim hips.

 

Buffy felt a rush of purely feminine power as she unbuttoned her shirt with one hand, holding it closed with the other. He was still watching her, and she released it, letting the fabric drift to the floor.

 

Spike watched with the same hungry expression as she unbuttoned her pants, then slid them ever-so-slowly down her legs. She smiled and approached him, sliding a hand up, over his cool skin, then down to the waist of his jeans. “What are we waiting for?”

 

“I have no bloody clue,” he whispered, sounding almost reverent.

 

They worshipped one another; there was no other word for it. Buffy felt the difference. She didn’t think they had ever made love before this night, although she’d known that Spike had wanted to, had wanted to shower her with tenderness.

 

Tonight, she allowed him to be gentle with her, and then she turned the tables on him, using all the tricks he’d taught her to make him gasp for air he didn’t need.

 

Buffy’s intentions were to ensure that Spike never doubted her feelings for him again. And she was very good at achieving her goals.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles was still unsure how he’d wound up hosting Thanksgiving dinner. He suspected that Buffy planned to cook and leave the clean up to him. Although he didn’t have her need for Thanksgiving dinner, he did understand that it was important to her. Giles also knew that something had happened, that he’d made choices that had hurt her.

 

He wanted this second chance as much as she did, even though he hadn’t experienced what was to come.

 

“Spike, can you peel the potatoes?” Buffy said, sounding just a little frantic. “I think they’re supposed to be boiling. How is the turkey?”

 

“The turkey is fine,” Spike soothed. “And I’ve got the potatoes under control.”

 

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Peas. We’re supposed to have fresh peas. Wasn’t Willow supposed to be getting the peas?”

 

As if her words had summoned her, Willow breezed through the door, two boxes of frozen peas in her hands. “They didn’t have fresh peas, Buffy.”

 

Buffy frowned. “They’re supposed to be fresh.”

 

“I’m sure that frozen will be fine,” Giles said. “I could never tell the difference.”

 

“I guess it’ll do.”

 

“Did you really kill off the Native American spirit?” Willow asked. “I thought you were going to think about it. They had a good reason for being angry.”

 

“Sure they did, Will, but they were going to kill two people and give Xander syphilis. I thought that was more important than making them happy.” Buffy gave her friend a pointed look. “And he wasn’t going to be made happy. I’ve done this before, remember?”

 

Willow made a face. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

Giles heard Spike snort, although the vampire didn’t look up from the potatoes he was diligently peeling. He sensed that something had changed between Spike and Buffy in the last couple of days. While they had been close since the spell, Giles didn’t think they had ever been as easy with one another. Spike, in particular, seemed more relaxed.

 

He was trying not to think about what exactly had changed.

 

“Do you have brandy?” Buffy asked. “I need it for the plum pudding.”

 

Giles nodded, resigned to the fact that he was going to have no peace until they’d had dinner, and it was perfect. “On the bottom shelf.”

 

“And where’s Xander and Anya?” Buffy asked. “They were supposed to bring the rolls.”

 

Willow raised her eyebrows. “Anya can bake?”

 

“Yeah,” Buffy said. “At least I think so.”

 

Willow pouted. “I don’t see why Xander had to bring Anya anyway.”

 

“She’s his girlfriend, Willow,” Buffy replied patiently. “Anya will be here for the same reason that Spike’s here.”

 

Willow sighed. “But I _like_ Spike.”

 

From Giles station near the kitchen, he could see Spike freeze and then begin to slice potatoes again. “Did Angel show up yet?” Buffy asked, beginning to measure various ingredients into a bowl.

 

Spike turned around. “Angel?”

 

“You knew he was going to come,” Buffy said patiently.

 

Spike looked decidedly put out. “You never said anything.”

 

“You were here when Xander spilled the beans the last time,” Buffy reminded him.

 

He frowned. “When was that?”

 

“When we were eating dinner,” Buffy said.

 

Spike looked a little sheepish. “Right.”

 

“So, Angel?” Buffy asked, turning back to Giles.

 

“He showed up yesterday, as you said he would,” Giles replied. “I sent him on his way.”

 

Buffy paused in her whisking. “What did you say?”

 

“I said that we had already taken care of the menace and that he wasn’t needed.” Giles shrugged. “He argued for a bit, but he left.”

 

Buffy made a face. “Let’s hope so. Because explaining what happened is not on my top ten list of things I want to do.”

 

“Do you think he’d try to hurt Spike?” Giles asked.

 

Buffy sighed. “I don’t know.”

 

“Wouldn’t matter,” Spike insisted. “I could take him.”

 

“Yes, you could, but not without getting hurt,” Buffy replied. “I like you unbruised.”

 

As they shared a kiss, Giles looked away, wondering if Buffy had left him any brandy.

 

Xander came through the door just then, Anya right behind him. “Whoa,” he exclaimed. “Buffy!”

 

“Don’t, Xander,” she warned him, breaking off her kiss with Spike. “We’re dating; deal with it.”

 

He opened his mouth to say something, and Anya elbowed him in the side. “Don’t. I like Spike.”

 

Spike smirked. “Yeah, Harris. Let’s not start.”

 

Xander closed his eyes and groaned. “Why does it have to be another vampire?”

 

“It’s not another vampire,” Buffy replied. “It’s Spike. Did you bring the rolls?”

 

“I did,” Anya said, holding a plastic bag full of rolls. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

Buffy nodded. “Help me baste the turkey?”

 

As the girls went to work in the kitchen, Giles sat down on his couch with a glass of brandy. Xander sat down next to him. “Can’t you talk some sense into her?” he asked.

 

Giles glanced over, watching Spike as he leaned against the wall next to the kitchen. He said something that made Buffy laugh, and Giles realized that he hadn’t heard her sound quite that happy in a very long time.

 

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Xander,” Giles replied.


	12. Just a Little Spell

Willow paused as she flipped through their mail. It was the first day back from Thanksgiving break, and she’d just had a full day of classes. She was tired and not feeling very good. It had been too long since she’d heard from Oz, and Willow was starting to think that she wasn’t ever going to see him again.

 

And now there was a letter.

 

She hurried back to her dorm room, wanting privacy to read his message. Sitting down on her bed, she opened the envelope and read the missive.

 

_“Willow, I miss you. I even miss Sunnydale, even though I’ve seen some pretty weird stuff out here. I’m on my way to Tibet now. I’ve heard there are monks there who might be able to help me out. I don’t know what the mail is like from there, so I might not be able to write again very soon. Love,_

_Oz.”_

 

It wasn’t much as far love notes went, but Willow would take it. At least it was _something_. Still, it hurt to know that he was so far away, without any indication of when he’d be coming back.

 

The door opened, and Buffy walked in. “Hey, Will.”

 

“Hey,” she said absently, wondering if Buffy would sense that something was wrong, or if she’d still be caught up in her own Spike-filled world.

 

Buffy put her books down on her desk and began sorting through them. “How were classes?”

 

“Fine.”

 

Buffy turned to look at her. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Oz sent me a letter.” Willow held it out to her, watching as Buffy took it and quickly scanned the words.

 

Buffy looked up. “This is good, right?”

 

“I don’t know,” Willow said. “He’s going to _Tibet_.”

 

Buffy sat down next to her. “I think that’s where he went last time, too, if I remember correctly. What’s wrong?”

 

“He doesn’t even know when he’s coming back,” Willow burst out. “So what if he misses me? If he really missed me, he’d come home.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Oz needs to do this for himself, Will. I know he loves you, but Sunnydale isn’t a good place for him right now. Not until he can control the wolf.”

 

“What if he can’t?” Willow demanded.

 

Buffy rose from the bed. “He did last time; I don’t know why it would be different.”

 

 “Maybe you changed it,” Willow objected. “Maybe he won’t come back.”

 

Willow could see the guilt flash over Buffy’s face, and she felt a pang of remorse. “I’m doing the best that I can,” Buffy said. “No one handed me a user’s guide, Willow. I was trying to keep the world from ending.”

 

“I know,” Willow said, knowing that she should be more sympathetic, but still thinking that Buffy didn’t understand how she felt. Buffy had her boyfriend with her; Spike had gotten his soul for her, and he was completely devoted.

 

Spike had followed her to the past, and obviously wanted nothing but her happiness. For Willow, who had just lost the person she loved, to distance if nothing else, it was hard to see them together.

 

Buffy sighed. “I’m sorry, Willow. Maybe we should do something tonight, just the two of us.”

 

That was more like it. “That sounds good.”

 

Buffy smiled. “I’ll call Spike and have him patrol for me. It can be a girls’ evening in.”

 

Willow thought that might be just what the doctor ordered.

 

~~~~~

 

“’Course I don’t mind,” Spike replied. “If Red’s down, probably best you keep her mind off things. You know what happened the last time she got caught up in her own misery.”

 

“Oh, crap,” Buffy said. “I almost forgot about that.”

 

Spike’s eyebrows went up, even though he knew that Buffy couldn’t see his expression. “You forgot?”

 

“Not about the spell,” Buffy said quickly. “That’s a little hard to do. No, I forgot that it was now.” She groaned. “There’s just so much to remember, and with school, and I’ve got finals coming up—”

 

“It’s fine, Buffy,” Spike assured her. “I was just teasing a bit. I’ll stop by your mum’s house tonight, check up on her. How about I stop by campus tomorrow after your classes?”

 

“I’ve got a paper to write,” she warned him.

 

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I just like being close to you.”

 

“I like having you close,” she replied, her voice growing warm. “I’m going to miss you tonight.”

 

“Same here.” Spike felt a smile tugging the corners of his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“See you then.”

 

Even though Buffy hadn’t said the words, Spike could feel the warmth in her as he hadn’t in the past. After that night they’d spent together, everything had felt different.

 

They had finally made love for the first time, and Buffy had fallen asleep in his arms. What had been even better, Buffy had stayed in his arms the next morning, rather than running away. Spike hadn’t slept, had simply watched her, and when Buffy’s eyes had fluttered open the next morning and she’d offered him a sleepy smile…

 

Well, Spike knew that everything had changed. They had managed to fix this one thing at least.

 

Although he had no doubt that they would fight again, Spike had the memory of that night, and the next morning, and the knowledge that Buffy had forgiven him.

 

Even if he didn’t deserve any of it.

 

Spike had a few errands to run that afternoon, needing to pick up blood and cigarettes, as well as a few items for his fridge. If Buffy was going to be spending the night on any kind of a regular basis, he wanted to have something for her to eat and drink.

 

It was a nice day, and Spike still hadn’t reached the point where he took the daylight for granted yet, and so he decided to walk. He was walking down Main Street, towards the store, when he saw Riley across the street. Spike couldn’t help the frisson of fear even though the Gem of Amara kept him safe enough.

 

The Initiative had been the only enemy that he’d been unable to beat, since Buffy had been the one to shut down the base. Spike hadn’t even had the satisfaction of knowing he’d been a part of things; instead, he’d been taken in by Adam and his promises of freedom.

 

Spike still felt a sense of shame for that whole business. Not for betraying the Slayer and her friends; he’d been evil at the time, after all. No, for being such a fool to believe that the walking pile of junk would actually keep his word. Spike should have known better.

 

Now he faced the Initiative again, although on different terms. With any luck, the soldiers would never know of him, let alone capture him. And if they did—if something happened—well, Spike now knew the lengths to which Buffy would go to rescue him.

 

Riley didn’t even look over at him, though, and Spike had to remind himself that in this time, the soldier had never met him, had never heard of Hostile 17. And he was standing outside in the broad daylight.

 

There was no way the other man would believe that he was a vampire.

 

“Spike!”

 

He smiled as he realized that Joyce was calling to him from down the street. “Hello, Joyce. What are you doing here?”

 

“I was out getting lunch,” she said. “Would you like to come by and see the gallery?”

 

Spike shrugged. He’d never visited the last time, and he didn’t have anywhere to be. “Sure.”

 

“Were you on your way somewhere?” Joyce asked. “I don’t want to keep you.”

 

Spike shook his head. “Just to the store, but I didn’t have any plans for the afternoon. Thought I might drop by tonight.”

 

“You know that you and Buffy don’t need to worry about me,” she half-scolded.

 

He smiled. “Can’t help it if we do. We both want you around for a long time to come.”

 

“That’s very sweet,” she replied.

 

Spike frowned. “I’m _not_ ‘sweet.’”

 

“Of course not,” she agreed, although Spike could hear her snicker.

 

He decided to let it go. If Joyce wanted to think him “sweet,” that was fine, particularly if it kept him on good terms with her. Spike knew that things would go better for him and Buffy if Joyce was on board with their relationship.

 

Although, they really hadn’t faced much disapproval this time around unless you counted Xander—which Spike didn’t.

 

Joyce held the door open for him. “This is it,” she announced. “It’s small, but we have some good pieces.”

 

“I can see that,” Spike replied.

 

“Let me show you around.” Joyce smiled. “It’s been slow today, but I have a shipment to unpack later.” She waved to her assistant. “You can leave now, Angela. I’m back.”

 

“Thanks, Mrs. Summers,” Angela replied, grabbing her pack. “I’ve got to get to class.”

 

“She’s an art history major at the university,” Joyce explained as the door closed behind the girl. “I generally have to hire someone new every year, but it’s nice to have help over the lunch hour, and sometimes in the evening.”

 

“You want some help today?” Spike asked. “Told Buffy I’d patrol for her tonight, but I can do it later.”

 

“Would you?” Joyce asked. “There are some large pieces, and I wasn’t sure if I’d manage by myself.”

 

“Of course,” Spike replied, shrugging. “Happy to.”

 

Joyce smiled at him warmly. “Thank you, Spike. It’s so nice to have you around.”

 

Spike couldn’t help the smile that formed, although he didn’t reply. He was thinking that it was nice to be wanted.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy was thanking her lucky stars—assuming she had some—that Willow hadn’t asked to come along on patrol with her. It wasn’t that she begrudged her friend the time; she understood that Willow was hurting. Like Spike had said, it was a good idea to keep her mind off of her troubles with Oz to avoid any ill-conceived spells. She had forgotten just how big a pain a moping Willow could be, though.

 

She’d had to call Spike and tell him not to come by her dorm that afternoon, because she’d been too tired to work on her paper and had decided to catch a nap while Willow wasn’t there. It had helped, but not enough.

 

“Are you alright, Buffy?” Giles asked.

 

Buffy nodded. “I’m fine. It’s just that Willow wanted to stay up all night talking, so I didn’t get much sleep.”

 

He made a sympathetic noise. “I take it that she’s missing Oz.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I thought that if he sent a letter this time, it would make things better, but instead it seems to have made it worse.”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Perhaps it’s not the letter.”

 

Buffy frowned. “What are you trying to say?”

 

“You and Spike are quite close,” Giles pointed out delicately, pulling off his glasses.

 

“And?” Buffy prompted.

 

“I’m only saying that it might be difficult for Willow to watch you with your boyfriend, who is also a supernatural creature.” Giles finished polishing his lenses and put his glasses back on. “Were you dating anyone last time?”

 

Buffy shifted on the couch. “Not really. I was starting to—with Riley, but we hadn’t gotten very far.” She rubbed her eyes. “I just hope that Willow doesn’t get the bright idea to do a spell this time.”

 

“Shouldn’t you speak to her about that?” Giles asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “And put the idea in her head? Willow suggested that maybe I’d made things worse between her and Oz, and she could be right, Giles. What if the changes I make aren’t for the better?”

 

Giles gave her a sympathetic smile, then gently asked, “Are things between you and Spike better or worse?”

 

“Better,” Buffy said immediately. “Better than they’ve ever been.”

 

“Then perhaps that’s your answer. What is in your power to control, you’ve improved upon.”

 

Spike strode the door just then, and so Buffy was prevented from asking Giles any more questions about what he thought. She wondered if she shouldn’t have him talk to Willow about not using magic when upset, but then thought better of that idea. Willow had a tendency to be touchy about being told to stay away from magic, and after Willow’s accusations, the Slayer wasn’t inclined to meddle more than she had to.

 

“Hello, luv,” Spike said, giving her a smile and sparing Giles from having to watch them kiss. Buffy knew that he would give her a more thorough greeting later.

 

“Hey,” she replied. “How was Mom?”

 

“Good,” he said. “Helped her unpack a shipment, saw her safely home, then dusted half a dozen vamps.” Spike grinned, looking very satisfied with himself. “It was a good night.”

 

“Sounds like it,” Buffy replied.

 

“How’s Red?” he asked.

 

Buffy sighed. “Mopey. We stayed up all night last night, talking about how horrible men are in general, and Oz was in particular.”

 

Spike and Giles both frowned at that. “All men?” Giles inquired.

 

Buffy shrugged. “Well, in a general sense, anyway. I was mostly just listening. She wanted me to hang out tonight, but I played the duty card.”

 

“If you need to stay with her—” Spike began.

 

Buffy shook her head vehemently. “No. I need a break. I need an evening slaying demons, and I need to sleep tonight.”

 

“Well, I’ve heard nothing new. Both of you be careful tonight.”

 

“You’ve got it,” Spike replied, looking over at Buffy. “Ready, pet?”

 

“Absolutely.” Buffy stood and took his arm. “I’ll be by tomorrow, Giles.”

 

Buffy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that Spike was there when Oz wasn’t, particularly after hearing about it all night. At the same time, they had put in their time, had had their share of tears and hurt. Buffy was determined to enjoy every moment they had together.

 

~~~~~

 

“I don’t see why Buffy had to go patrol with Spike tonight,” Willow said, pouting. “She knows that I’m hurting right now, and Spike was fine last night.”

 

“It _is_ Buffy’s job, Will,” Xander reminded her, glancing at the clock. Anya was going to be arriving soon, and he didn’t want Willow there when she showed up. While Buffy seemed okay with his girlfriend, he knew that Willow didn’t like her.

 

Xander honestly didn’t understand where Willow’s animosity came from. If anyone was going to hate Anya, it probably should be him, since she’d taken her revenge on men, not women.

 

Still, he knew that Anya was a little jealous of his friends, and Xander wanted to make this work. He reminded himself to ask Buffy for pointers, and a glimpse into the future. She hadn’t said much about their relationship.

 

“I’m her best friend,” Willow protested. “I think I should get some of her time for that.”

 

Xander hid his sigh. He could definitely understand why Buffy would rather spend her evening with Spike, killing demons. “Didn’t you just tell me that Buffy stayed up all night with you? Give her a break, Will.”

 

Willow frowned at him, catching him glancing over at the clock. “What? Do you have a hot date or something?”

 

“Anya’s coming over,” Xander explained.

 

Willow pouted. “I thought that we were supposed to hang out!”

 

“I’d already made plans with her, Will.” Xander stood. “And she should be here any minute. I’m sorry, but we can do something tomorrow night if you want.”

 

Willow grimaced. “Fine.”

 

Xander watched her go and let out a sigh of relief. Really, he loved her, but he was getting tired of her complaining about Oz being gone. He was fairly certain that he hadn’t done that much whining when Cordelia had broken up with him.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow went back to her dorm room and slammed the door shut behind her. It wasn’t fair. Everyone had a significant other; everyone had someone except for her, and her friends couldn’t even be bothered to give her a little support in her time of need.

 

The rational part of her brain reminded Willow that her friends had been very sympathetic, but she didn’t want to be rational. She wanted to wallow in self-pity. So Oz missed her. So what? He wasn’t there; if he really missed her he’d be on his way back to Sunnydale.

 

She flung herself down on her bed, wishing that she could just get over him that much faster. Everyone kept assuring her that it would take time, but how did they know? And did she want to get over him? Maybe she didn’t, because Willow still wanted him to come back.

 

Willow just wanted to not hurt for a while.

 

She reached over and grabbed one of the magic books she’d borrowed from Giles to practice. Buffy had said that she’d turned out to be a bad ass witch, and that made Willow want to try harder, to get better, to be powerful sooner. Surely if she’d been a powerful witch, Veruca wouldn’t have made a play for Oz, and Oz wouldn’t have left.

 

There was a part of her that wanted to find the spell her future self had used to send Buffy and Spike back in time. If she’d thought that she’d actually be able to cast that spell, Willow might have tried.

 

Instead, she would have to make do with something else.

 

It was just her luck that she already had the ingredients necessary for the “Will Be Done” spell. It wasn’t even all that complicated, nothing like conjuring. The only thing that Willow had to worry about controlling was herself, and she was all about the self-control.

 

Willow set up the candles in the bathroom, smothering her resentment of the others, all of whom seemed oblivious to her pain. They were all busy with their own lives and kept forgetting that hers had been put on hold.

 

That’s what it felt like—like Willow couldn’t move forward until Oz returned.

 

“Harken all ye elements, I summon thee now.” She dropped eye of newt into the bowl. “Control the outside, control within. Land and sea, fire and wind. Out of my passions, a web be spun. From this eve forth, my will be done. So mote it be.”

 

Willow poured the contents of the goblet into the bowl and felt the shock of the electricity that connected her to all of the candles. She felt a sense of satisfaction.

 

Quickly, she cleared out all signs of spell casting before anyone saw her. The RA took a dim view of lit candles in the dorm, and Willow didn’t want to get in trouble.

 

Once she’d put all her spell ingredients away, Willow sat on the edge of her bed and concentrated on her broken heart. “I will that my heart be mended.”

 

Willow frowned. She certainly didn’t feel any different.

 

She picked up a bent q-tip from the bedside table. “I will that this q-tip be straight.”

 

Still nothing.

 

With a sigh, Willow flopped down on the bed and closed her eyes. Some bad ass Wicca she was. She couldn’t even get a simple spell right.


	13. The Thin Line Between Love and Hate

Buffy breezed into the dorm room the next day with just minutes to spare. She’d had every intention of coming back after patrol, but they had wound up back at Spike’s apartment. Buffy hadn’t been able to make herself leave until the last possible second, and even then, she would have been late if he hadn’t insisted on giving her a ride.

 

“Where have you been?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy’s voice was muffled by her shirt as she pulled it off over her head. “Spike’s place. Patrol ran later than expected.” She shimmied out of the rest of her clothing and began pulling on whatever clean articles came to hand. “Sorry, Will, but I’m running late.”

 

“You wouldn’t be if you’d come back last night,” Willow pointed out ruthlessly.

 

Buffy held in a sigh. “I’m sorry, but this is the first time that things between Spike and me have been good.”

 

Willow pouted. “Can we at least hang out tonight?”

 

“Sure,” Buffy promised, wanting to get out of there without hurting Willow’s feelings any more than she apparently already had. “I’ll see you after classes. Maybe we can go to a movie.”

 

Buffy grabbed her books and then dashed out the door.

 

“Can I carry those for you?”

 

Buffy smiled at Spike. “I thought you were going to go home.”

 

He shrugged. “Figured I could steal a few moments of your time.”

 

“As many as you want.” Buffy pressed a kiss to his lips. “But I’ve got to run if I’m not going to be late.”

 

Spike kept pace with her, carrying her books. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

 

“That’s dangerous,” Buffy teased.

 

He shot her a look. “Ha bloody ha. Been thinking about doing something with my time. Your mum suggested it.”

 

“What would you do?” Buffy asked, curious. She couldn’t see Spike engaged in any kind of activity other than demon hunting and watching crappy daytime television.

 

He shrugged. “I’m still in the planning phase. Just thinking about it, is all.”

 

“Whatever you want to do is fine with me,” Buffy said. “Maybe you should talk to Giles about it. He’s between jobs right now.”

 

“Don’t think I want to be a Watcher, pet,” Spike said with a wry smile.

 

Buffy shrugged. “He’s going to open up the Magic Box eventually, maybe you could do something with that.” Seeing his horrified expression, she hastened to explain, “I don’t mean retail, but Giles had deliveries and stuff, things that couldn’t go through the mail.”

 

Spike’s brows drew together thoughtfully. “You might be onto something there.”

 

“See?” Buffy teased. “I’m not just another pretty face.”

 

“Never thought you were.” He handed her books back and then gave her a peck on the lips. “See you later?”

 

Buffy sighed. “It’s a girls’ night in, I’m afraid. Willow…” She trailed off, not wanting to cut her friend down, but clingy-Willow was getting very, very old.

 

“Best to keep her happy,” Spike said with a shrug. “If we can escape the spell that goes wonky.”

 

Buffy gave him a mischievous smile. “Oh, I don’t know. It might be kind of fun to plan our wedding this time around.” She dashed off before he could reply, unable to keep the smile off her face. Everything seemed absolutely perfect at the moment.

 

She probably should have been worried.

 

~~~~~

 

Anya was not terribly happy. She had planned on spending the night with Xander—it was the same thing she did nearly every evening—but he had said that he wanted to spend some time with Willow, because she was moping.

 

As much as Anya could relate, since she’d spent nearly twelve centuries granting vengeance wishes for girls just like Willow, she’d never really liked listening to women whine. It was a necessary part of the job, but it wasn’t her favorite. She generally couldn’t wait until the girl in question voiced a wish.

 

She sighed, thinking nostalgically of the last wish she’d granted. It had been amazing.

 

“Drinking alone tonight?”

 

Anya glanced up to see Spike standing next to her, a strange expression on his face. He looked wistful and sad, and she couldn’t understand why a vampire would be looking at her like that, even one with a soul. “Xander said he needed to spend time with Willow,” Anya replied, letting her tone tell him how much she appreciated that.

 

Spike took a seat next to her. “Yeah, same here. That is, Buffy said the same thing, so I’m patrolling alone tonight. Thought I’d stop in for a drink first.”

 

Anya eyed his beer wistfully. She still didn’t have the right ID to get anything harder than a Coke, and she _missed_ beer.

 

“Want one?” Spike asked, reading her expression.

 

Anya’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t want something from me, do you? Because I’m with Xander now. You’re not getting it.”

 

Spike chuckled, looking oddly nostalgic again. “Not at all. Just a drink between friends and ex-demons, yeah?”

 

“Well, if that’s all,” Anya replied, accepting his invitation.

 

She hadn’t spent a lot of time with vampires in the past—Dracula being the exception—but Spike seemed like a unique specimen. There was a depth there that she rarely saw in a vampire; mostly they were all about the blood.

 

“Another beer,” Spike called to the bartender.

 

The man raised his eyebrows, clearly knowing exactly who was getting the drink. “I don’t want to see it,” he warned Spike.

 

“We’ll get a table,” Spike replied, paying for the drink and leading the way into the crowd. “What brings you to the Bronze tonight?”

 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Anya admitted. “It’s not like I have anybody to spend time with other than Xander.”

 

“Can get lonely in this town,” Spike agreed. “Especially if you’re an ex-demon.”

 

Anya felt a sense of relief. Finally, someone who understood. Xander hated it when she talked about her past, preferring to believe that she’d been nowhere in particular before coming to Sunnydale. Anya had been all over the world, had seen the rise and fall of empires. She had done things that Xander couldn’t even imagine, and there was no one to talk to about it.

 

“It’s hard,” Anya said. “No one understands.”

 

“’Course they don’t,” Spike replied. “They’re babies; haven’t lived half as long as we have.”

 

“I miss it,” Anya confessed. “All of it.”

 

Spike smiled gently. “I know.”

 

Anya realized that he did. “Does it get easier?”

 

“Yes and no,” he replied, and she recognized the truth when she heard it. “Some things do, some don’t.”

 

She felt a cold fear in the pit of her stomach. “Do Xander and I—”

 

“You two will be fine,” Spike replied. “I’ll make certain of it.”

 

“Thank you.” Anya met his eyes and realized that she had a friend other than Xander after all.

 

~~~~~

 

“I brought ice cream,” Xander said, holding up a plastic sack.

 

Willow brightened, although she knew that Buffy should be arriving shortly. “Thanks, Xander.”

 

“I told you I’d hang out with you tonight,” he said. “Sorry about last night.”

 

She shrugged, willing to forgive and forget in the face of ice cream. “It’s okay. I know you had plans with Anya.”

 

“She _is_ my girlfriend,” Xander pointed out, digging into his own tub.

 

Willow wrinkled her nose. “Why Anya?”

 

“Maybe because she’s the only one who would have me,” Xander replied, sounding a little hurt. “I like her, Will. I can’t explain it, but I do.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Willow took a bite of Cherry Garcia. “I get it.”

 

“Hey, did you guys get started without me?” Buffy asked as she entered the dorm room.

 

“I brought ice cream for you, too, Buff,” Xander said, holding up the bag.

 

Buffy’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, Phish Food.”

 

“Where’s Spike tonight?” Xander asked.

 

Buffy shrugged. “Patrolling. Other than that, I don’t know. I think he’s planning on staying away from campus, though. We’re not sure what kind of equipment the soldiers have to detect vampires, and we would both rather be safe than sorry.”

 

“They don’t know about Anya, do they?” Xander asked, concerned. “Not that she comes on campus much, but—”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, you don’t have to worry about that, Xan. They don’t have a clue about Anya.”

 

He let out a breath. “Good. You know, Buffy, I was going to ask you for some pointers. I know you told me to look into construction, and that’s been great, but I was thinking you could tell me a little bit about where Anya and me end up.”

 

Buffy hesitated. “I don’t know, Xander. I don’t want to change anything that’s not supposed to be changed.”

 

“Is that what you did with Oz and me?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

 

“You told me what was coming up with Oz. Maybe it would have been better if you’d just let things happen.” Willow could feel the anger bubbling up, and the power that lay just behind it. She wanted to blame someone for her pain, and Buffy was there.

 

Buffy’s eyes widened in hurt. “I told you, Willow. I’m doing the best that I can. Xander’s situation is different.”

 

“So, there is a situation?” Xander asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

 

Willow stared at her friend. “You have all this information, but you’re not very free with it, are you? You’re acting all high and mighty, like you know what’s best for us.”

 

Buffy blinked quickly, clearly trying to hold back tears. “You don’t mean that.”

 

“Yes, I do,” Willow shot back. “How do I know that you’re not the one who caused this whole mess with Oz?”

 

“Okay,” Xander said, holding out his hands as though to keep the two of them separated. “That’s enough, Willow. Buffy, as much as it pains me to say this, you might want to spend the night elsewhere.”

 

“No problem,” Buffy said tightly. “I know when I’m not wanted.” She rose and grabbed her jacket, leaving with as much dignity as she could muster.

 

“How could you, Will?” Xander asked, once the door had closed behind her. “You heard what the next few years were like for her.”

 

“Like you’re not tired of the ‘I know more than you do’ routine,” Willow accused.

 

Xander snorted. “That’s not what this is about. I’ve known you since kindergarten, remember? You’re just pissed off that Buffy’s got a good thing going with Spike, and you’re pissed off that I have an actual relationship with Anya. Well, tough. Maybe it’s time you grew up a little bit.”

 

“Like you can talk when you haven’t even left home!” Willow shot back angrily. “You’re stuck in your parents’ basement, and you will be forever! And Buffy! It was better when Buffy and Spike hated each other. At least then she had time for her friends.”

 

Xander rose. “Yeah, well, I’ll just go back where I belong, then. Enjoy the ice cream, Will.”

 

Willow had a bitter taste in her mouth as she watched Xander go. She knew she’d just screwed up royally, but she couldn’t bring herself to call him back. “They don’t understand,” she muttered rebelliously. “How can they?”

 

~~~~~

 

“What the hell are you doing here, Summers?” Spike snarled as he opened his apartment door to see the Slayer. “Thought you were going to stay away.”

 

Buffy gave him a patently false smile. “Just making sure you weren’t eating any innocents.”

 

“Like I’d let you see me with blood on my lips,” Spike shot back. “Think I’m that stupid?”

 

“Is that really a question you want me to answer?” Buffy shoved him back against the wall. “I ought to take that ring away from you. It’s not safe.”

 

Spike leaned in closer, so that his nose was almost touching hers. “Try,” he dared her.

 

Buffy attacked him, using her mouth to bruise and punish. Spike pushed her away, shifting into game face. “Don’t start something that you don’t mean to finish,” he warned.

 

She shoved him back against the wall. “You get off on this, don’t you? I always knew pain turned you on, Spike.”

 

“And you need a little monster in your man,” he sneered. “You’re a bloody martyr, Slayer. Not happy unless you’re whinging about how shitty your life is at the moment.”

 

Buffy gave him a right hook to the jaw, sending him flying backwards. “You’re no different! Always going after women you _know_ you can’t have. You really think that you could make me happy, Spike? You’re nothing to me. You’re _beneath_ me.”

 

Spike tackled her, and they rolled around on the floor in a snarling, growling heap. Buffy scored his chest with her nails, and Spike pinned her arms over her head. “Look at this,” Spike said with an evil smile. “Looks like you’re the one beneath _me_.” He ripped her shirt open with ease. “Have to see what I can do about that.”

 

Buffy bucked her hips, although not so much to buck him off as to urge him on. She wanted to feel him inside her. Not that she was going to tell him that. “Like _you_ could get the job done.”

 

“I’ll show you just how bad I am, baby.” Spike’s face shifted, and she was staring into blazing blue eyes. “You’ll be eating your words and screaming my name.”

 

~~~~~

 

Xander got his first hint of trouble the next morning, when he tried to leave for work—and couldn’t. “What the hell?” he muttered, reaching for the doorknob once again. He _wanted_ to leave. This was the fifth time he’d tried to, and he just couldn’t make himself go. It was like he was rooted in one place.

 

Running over the possibilities in his head, Xander tried to figure out who he should be calling. If it was magic, Buffy probably wouldn’t be able to help him, and after their fight last night, Xander didn’t think he _wanted_ to talk to Willow.

 

Willow. Xander frowned, remembering her words. She’d told him that he’d never leave his parents’ basement, and here he was, unable to leave. His eyes widened as he realized that she’d also said she liked it better when Buffy and Spike hated each other.

 

“This is not good,” he muttered, heading straight for the phone to call Giles. The Watcher would know what to do; he could get Willow to reverse whatever spell she’d done, hopefully before anybody died. Although Xander didn’t feel real sad about the idea of Spike being dust, the vampire had the Gem of Amara, which made it more likely that Buffy would wind up dead.

 

“Come on, Giles, pick up,” Xander muttered as the phone rang.

 

“Hello?” Giles sounded out of breath.

 

“Giles, it’s Xander,” he said quickly. “I think we have a problem.”

 

“What kind of problem? What did you do, Xander?” Giles demanded.

 

Xander was hurt that Giles’ first thought was that _he_ had done something. “Me?” he squeaked in outrage. “It’s not me! I think Willow did something. Last night, we had a fight. She told me that I’d never leave my parents basement, and this morning, I can’t leave.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean I _can’t leave_ ,” Xander repeated. “I can’t even open the door. It gets worse.”

 

“It would have to if it was to be a problem,” Giles muttered.

 

Xander scowled, even though he knew that Giles couldn’t see him. “Spike’s been rubbing off on you,” he accused. “And that’s the problem. Willow also said that she liked it better when Spike and Buffy hated each other. You might want to make sure that they haven’t killed each other.”

 

There was a long pause. “You’re not joking.”

 

“I’m supposed to be at work!” Xander said angrily. “At a job I like. Now, I’m going to have to call my boss and tell him that I’m sick, which won’t do much for my ability to actually keep said job.”

 

“I’ll have Willow fix it,” Giles promised.

 

“Good.” Xander hung up, angry. He wondered if he should try calling Buffy, but he didn’t think she’d head back to the dorms. And he still didn’t want to talk to Willow. Obviously, she didn’t think much of him; who knew whether she’d even take him seriously?

 

“Crap.” Xander flopped down on the bed, focusing on his “sick voice.” He was going to need it if he wanted to convince his boss that he couldn’t come in.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles didn’t like the sound of this at all. He wasn’t sure whether he should check on Buffy and Spike first, or if he should find Willow. Of course, if Buffy and Spike were fighting as they had back when they hated each other, he didn’t think he’d be able to separate them. Buffy was the Slayer, and Spike had the ring, and he didn’t have the strength to match them.

 

“Buffy did say that Willow had made some serious missteps with magic,” he reminded himself. “I’m going to have to see about getting her trained.”

 

Perhaps it would be better to send her sooner, rather than later.

 

He picked up the phone and called the dorm, receiving no answer. With a sinking feeling, Giles realized that he didn’t have Spike’s number, nor did he know where Spike was staying. He tried calling the Summers’ residence, but got the answering machine.

 

Hanging up without leaving a message, Giles decided to go straight to campus and wait for either Buffy or Willow at their room.

 

His timing seemed perfect, since Willow was approaching the room at the same time he was. “Willow!”

 

“What are you doing here, Giles?” She frowned at him. “Is there a problem?”

 

“You could say that,” Giles replied. “Did you perform a spell in the last couple of days, Willow?”

 

The guilty expression on her face was the only confirmation he needed. “Why?” she asked warily.

 

“Because Xander is unable to leave his—” Giles paused, at a loss to know what to call Xander’s abode. “—the basement. He thinks you have something to do with it.”

 

Willow unlocked the door, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don’t know why.”

 

“He said that you told him that he would probably never leave the basement,” Giles responded, following her inside. “This is _not_ the time to be coy, Willow. Xander told me that you also said something about Spike and Buffy hating one another again. I haven’t been able to get in touch with them, but—”

 

Willow cut him off, obviously catching his meaning. “I did a spell the other night, but it didn’t work, Giles.”

 

“What sort of spell?” Giles asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and feeling a headache begin to throb at his temples.

 

Willow shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and not pulling it off. “A spell to have my will be done. I just wanted to feel better.”

 

Giles took a deep breath and reminded himself that getting angry at Willow wouldn’t do either of them any good. “And how do you know it didn’t work?”

 

“Because I didn’t feel better.”

 

Giles closed his eyes. “Willow, those sorts of spells don’t work on the caster; it works on those around them. As soon as you felt very strongly about something, which you apparently did with Xander, whatever you’ve said will happen.” He watched her, waiting until she met his eyes. “You must reverse it.”

 

“But I didn’t do anything!” she protested.

 

Giles gave her the glare he’d perfected as a librarian. It had never had much effect on Buffy, but then again, she was unique. “If you didn’t do anything,” he said with careful precision, “it won’t hurt you to reverse it.”

 

“Fine.” She looked a little guilty, and Giles could only pray that she reversed it before irreparable damage was done to anybody. Willow spoke the rhyme that ended the spell and raised her eyebrows. “Now what?”

 

“If you have Spike’s phone number, I’d appreciate it if you called over there,” Giles said. “I’d like to be sure that they’re alright.”

 

Willow nodded, and then did as he asked. “It’s Willow…Is Buffy there?...Can I talk to her?...Yeah…But you’re okay?”

 

Giles frowned, wondering what exactly had transpired. Willow didn’t say much more than a very subdued goodbye. “Is everything alright?” he asked.

 

Willow looked uncertain. “I don’t know. Buffy said they fought, but she didn’t go into any details. They’re both in one piece, though.”

 

“Well, that’s something to be thankful for.” Giles gave her his sternest look. “We’re going to have to talk about this, Willow. You simply _cannot_ use magic to fix your problems like that!”

 

Willow looked abashed. “I’m really sorry, Giles, but—”

 

“No.” Giles cut off her excuses. “I think you need to consider getting more extensive training than I can offer.”

 

Her eyes went wide. “What about school?”

 

“This summer will be soon enough,” Giles said. “But it’s something I’d like you to think about, Willow.”

 

And if she didn’t want to leave Sunnydale, he might have to find someone who was willing to travel.


	14. Fixing What's Broken

Buffy looked over at Spike. She’d known immediately when the spell had broken. The difference between hating him and loving him was the difference between night and day. “Spike?”

 

“Don’t.” His forehead rested on his knees, his voice muffled.

 

“It’s not your fault. It was a spell.”

 

When he didn’t reply, Buffy moved from the telephone to sit down on the floor next to him. “I’m sorry.”

 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” He finally raised his head to look at her. “Buffy, I—”

 

She touched his lips with a gentle hand, stopping his words. “I wanted it.”

 

“I _raped_ you!” Tears of outrage stood out in his eyes. “Buffy, you should be staking me right now.” Spike pulled the ring off, holding it out to her. “Take it. Just—”

 

She folded his fingers back over the ring. “You did not rape me.” Buffy was sure to enunciate every word. “Just because that spell manufactured feelings, it didn’t change the attraction, Spike.” He opened his mouth to argue, but Buffy forged on. “Okay, you remember when I handcuffed you?”

 

His eyes were wary. “Which time?”

 

“The time we both walked away limping,” she replied. When Spike nodded, Buffy continued. “It was like that. I wanted the sex, but I didn’t want you.”

 

Spike shook his head. “I was there, too, Buffy. I knew—”

 

“If I’d wound up on top, I’d have done the same thing,” Buffy stated bluntly. “And I wouldn’t have cared whether or not you wanted me.” She stood and held out her hand. “Come on.”

 

Some of her words must have gotten through, because he took her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. They were both sore after a night of fighting—among other things. She’d spoken the truth, however. She might have hated him, but she’d still _wanted_ him.

 

Willow had a lot to answer for.

 

“Are you going to put the ring back on?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike slipped it back on his finger. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”

 

“I wouldn’t do that.” Buffy sat down next to him on the couch. “You know, I never told you that I thought you were a real hottie the first time I saw you. Your fashion sense sucked, but other than that…” She trailed off, smiling.

 

“Didn’t suck,” Spike shot back. “And look who’s talking. Don’t know what you were calling the dresses you were wearing back then, but they weren’t any longer on you than my t-shirts.”

 

Buffy was relieved that he was teasing her. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah, pet?”

 

“I love you.”

 

She felt the stillness, felt the breath go right out of him. Slowly, he turned to face her. “Say it again,” he said hoarsely.

 

“I love you.” It was a revelation, really. The moment the spell had ended, Buffy had known. She hadn’t been certain until just that moment.

 

“Even after—”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Okay, you know what? If you can forgive me for what I said, I think I can forgive you, too. I am just as big of a person as you are, mister.”

 

That startled Spike into a chuckle. “Yeah, okay. Guess we’re even, then.”

 

“Oh, I think we’re a little bit more than that.” Buffy leaned in and captured his lips with hers in a gentle kiss.

 

Spike cupped her face as she pulled back. “You gonna be okay, luv?”

 

“I’m a little sore, but otherwise I’m okay.”

 

Spike shook his head, but he didn’t argue further. “You got somewhere to be?”

 

“No,” Buffy replied. “It’s Saturday, so no classes. I think I’ll just stay right here, if that’s okay with you.”

 

His arms tightened around her. “You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

 

Given the activities of the previous evening, it was no surprise that they both fell asleep almost immediately.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles had truthfully expected Buffy and Spike much earlier, but when they finally showed up around nine, he understood. Both looked weary, and Buffy was sporting bruises and was limping slightly. “Are you two alright?” he asked.

 

Buffy managed a smile. “We’re a little worse for wear, but we’ll survive.”

 

“Was it Willow’s spell?”

 

Spike snorted. “When is it anything else?”

 

“Yeah, it was, although a little different than last time.” Buffy’s tone was wry. “I was really hoping that we could skip this little event.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“This time or last time?” Buffy asked.

 

“Both, actually,” Giles clarified.

 

They exchanged a look, and Buffy spoke. “This time we beat each other up, but thankfully we didn’t kill each other.”

 

“Last time, Willow suggested we get married, and we got engaged. She also said that you were blind, and that Harris was a demon magnet.” Spike’s expression was sardonic. “You can imagine how that turned out.”

 

Giles winced. “I’m assuming that I got my sight back.”

 

“As soon as she reversed the spell,” Buffy confirmed. “ _After_ a visit from D’Hoffryn offering her a job as a vengeance demon. Giles, we need to get her trained. I thought maybe things would be different this time, with the way things turned out with Oz, but—”

 

“I’ve already spoken to her about that,” Giles assured her. “I don’t think it would happen until this summer, because there are her classes to consider, but I plan on making arrangements as soon as possible.”

 

Buffy nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. The coven seemed to help Willow a lot last time, but it might be better if she goes sooner rather than later.”

 

Giles nodded, wondering what had happened last time that had sent her to the coven. He couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t intervened sooner, particularly if she’d nearly blinded him. “Are you two going to patrol tonight?” he asked. “You might want to rest.”

 

Buffy smiled. “We’re fine, Giles. We’ll probably do a quick circuit, and then head back to Spike’s.”

 

“Ah, yes.” Giles raised his eyebrows. “Would you mind giving me your address and phone number, Spike? I realized last night that I didn’t have any way to find you, and there might come a time when I need to.”

 

Spike nodded. “Yeah, sure. Know I can trust you.” Spike wrote the information down on the pad of paper Giles handed him, his script flowing and rather ornate.

 

“Thank you,” Giles said. “Be careful tonight, both of you.”

 

Buffy gave him a fond look. “We’ll be fine. Really.”

 

Giles watched them leave and thought about everything that might have gone wrong with Willow’s spell. If Buffy had managed to kill Spike—or the other way around—while the spell was in effect, she would have been terribly upset.

 

He winced. No. If he were honest with himself, Giles knew that Buffy would have been devastated, and the same would have been true for Spike.

 

Giles knew that he would have to find a way to convince Willow to go for training of some sort; he would insist upon it. He thought it likely that she would still listen to him, and it was best to do it now, before it was too late.

 

~~~~~

 

“Buffy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You think we ought to do something about Tara?”

 

She looked over at Spike sharply. “What would we do?”

 

“Dunno.” It had been Giles’ comment about the summer that had reminded Spike of the other witch. Depending on how things turned out, Tara might be the one keeping Willow in Sunnydale, or she might not be part of the group at all.

 

He didn’t like the thought of that for some reason.

 

Buffy took his hand. “You’re thinking pretty hard.”

 

“It’s just—what Rupert said about the summer. If Tara’s around, Red might not agree to go off for training, and after what happened with Oz…” Spike trailed off. “It’s hard to know what’ll happen.”

 

“I think we’ve figured that much out,” Buffy replied wryly. “What did you have in mind?”

 

“Just—I was thinking of her family.”

 

Spike knew the moment that Buffy caught his reference—the night in the Magic Box when Tara’s father had tried to take her away, and they had convinced her to stay.

 

“Maybe it would be better if she didn’t get mixed up with us,” Buffy said softly. “She might have survived, then.”

 

“With that lot?” Spike argued. “That sort of life wouldn’t be worth living.”

 

She winced in agreement. “Okay, point. But what are we supposed to do about it?”

 

“Hell if I know,” Spike replied. “I’m not the people-person, remember? That would be you.”

 

She snorted indelicately. “Please, Spike. You’re just as good—if not better—with people.” At the look he gave her, she added, “And I’m not talking about eating them.”

 

Spike gave her a quick grin at that. “When did she get mixed up with Red?”

 

Buffy frowned, trying to remember. “When the Gentlemen came to town, I think, although she was in Willow’s Wicca group.”

 

“First or second night they were in town?”

 

“Second,” Buffy said. “But I didn’t meet her until after I’d switched bodies with Faith. Why?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Thought we could intercept her maybe. That or tell Red to bring her around sooner.”

 

Buffy made a face. “I don’t know, Spike. I think I’ve meddled in Willow’s love life enough.”

 

“And if we stop the Gentlemen before they start carving out hearts, they might never get together,” Spike pointed out. “Face it, luv, we’re meddling. What went on with Oz and Willow was nothing to do with us. You saw that the first time.”

 

Buffy nodded slowly. “I guess.”

 

“You going back to campus tonight?” Spike asked, changing the subject while promising himself that he’d find a way to get to Tara, even if no one else did. She’d been a good one.

 

Buffy made a face. “I don’t know. I know I’m going to have to see Willow eventually, but I really don’t want to do it tonight.”

 

“Won’t be that bad, will it?” he asked. “Last time she baked cookies.”

 

Buffy was quiet for a long moment, and then reached out to take Spike’s hand. “I’m angrier this time, though. It’s—I know this is the first time, but it brings to mind all the times that Willow tried to fix things with magic. And the effects were worse this time. We—things between us were so good…”

 

Spike’s eyes widened in alarm. “Things are still good. Right, luv?”

 

“Yeah. Of course.”

 

“No, you’re keeping something from me.” They had been wandering through Restfield, and Spike pulled her to a stop. “Buffy? What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s not you,” she assured him, although Spike wasn’t convinced. “It’s—we were getting past it, you know? I was so happy, and it was like Willow’s spell dug up all this stuff. What I said to you…”

 

Spike caressed her face. “You didn’t mean it.”

 

“I did right then,” Buffy argued, even though she leaned into his touch. “I just wish this were easier, you know?”

 

“They say nothing worth doing is easy,” Spike replied.

 

Buffy pouted prettily. “Well, I hate them, whoever _they_ are.”

 

“Me, too.” Spike slung his arm around her shoulders. “Want to find something to kill?”

 

“Yes, please,” Buffy said. “Then I’m going back to your place. I don’t have to be back to the dorms until Monday, and I’m taking advantage of it.”

 

Spike smiled. That was a plan he could get behind.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow was beginning to get a little nervous. Giles had said that Spike and Buffy were fine, but Buffy hadn’t come back to the dorm yet. According to Giles, both Buffy and Spike had been badly bruised. She wondered if Buffy was mad at her.

 

When Buffy came through the door around nine, Willow was silent, waiting for her roommate to say something. After a few minutes of silence, Willow couldn’t keep still any longer. “Is everything okay?”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

Willow’s guilt increased tenfold. “Are you sure?”

 

Buffy finally turned to look at her. “Giles said he talked to you about getting trained. Are you going to do it?”

 

Willow hesitated. “I’m guessing you want me to.”

 

“I think it’s a good idea.” Buffy’s voice was tight with restrained emotion.

 

“What happened, Buffy?” Willow asked. “I know I screwed up, but—”

 

Buffy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Spike and I used each other, and we hurt each other, after we’d sworn not to. Your spell put us in a place we’d moved past.”

 

Willow swallowed. “I’m sorry, Buffy. If I’d known—”

 

“Don’t!” Buffy burst out. “You told me that I shouldn’t have interfered with you and Oz, and I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

 

Willow winced, remembering what she’d said to Buffy just before she’d left the dorm on Friday night. “I really am sorry.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “It’s fine.”

 

Willow didn’t think it was, but she didn’t know what else she could say. “I’ll do it, if you think I need to,” she promised.

 

“I think it’s a good idea,” Buffy replied. “You can’t keep using magic to fix things, Willow. It’s one thing when you cast a spell to save people’s lives, or to fight a monster. Magic isn’t to be used for other things, though.”

 

Willow had a feeling that it wasn’t just her present self that Buffy was talking to, but also the person she’d become. “Is Spike mad?”

 

Buffy sat down on her bed. “Not really. He’s pretty good at letting things go most of the time.”

 

“Did you—did you hurt him?”

 

“I said some things I wish I could take back,” Buffy said. “And we had angry, pissed-off sex. I wanted it, and he didn’t think I did. It messed with his head.”

 

Willow swallowed hard, beginning to get the picture. Things could have been _much_ worse. “Buffy, I—”

 

“Don’t.” Buffy sounded tired. “Just promise you won’t do another spell like that, not without talking to me first. At least if we’ve experienced it before, I should be able to tell you how it turned out.”

 

Willow nodded. “Okay,” she said in a small voice.

 

Buffy rose. “I’m going to take a shower.”

 

Willow watched as the door closed behind her friend, a little harder than was probably necessary. She flopped down on the bed, her mind going around in circles. She realized that she’d hurt Buffy badly, and she had no idea how to make it better.

 

She had a feeling that there weren’t enough chocolate chips in the world.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike had no trouble breaking into the campus housing office and getting into the computer system. Buffy might be content to wait until Tara showed up, but he wasn’t. It was obvious that they wouldn’t be able to prevent all the unpleasant events from occurring. What was even more difficult was knowing what wouldn’t happen because they’d changed something else.

 

Since Oz had written Willow, maybe she and Tara wouldn’t get together this time. Without the Gentlemen, they might never strike up a friendship in the first place. Without that relationship, it was entirely possible that Tara would go back with her family when they came.

 

Spike couldn’t let that happen; he had a feeling that they would need Tara, just as she’d needed the group. Besides, he had no intention of allowing Warren to survive past the first nasty trick he played on Buffy, so there was no chance that the nerd would have an opportunity to kill her.

 

He wasn’t sure how he was going to contact her, or even _if_ he would, but Spike had every intention of keeping an eye on her.

 

After he’d collected the information he needed, Spike shut down the computer and let himself out of the office. He was heading back towards his apartment when he saw a dark shape rise up out of the darkness.

 

Spike cursed fluently, knowing exactly what he was seeing. He turned to run the other way and felt the sting of the taser leads hitting him in the back.

 

At least, the taser would have stung if he hadn’t been wearing the Gem of Amara.

 

Spike reached behind him, grasping the wires and yanking them out of his back. Without pausing, he leapt at the soldier in front of him, punching him in the solar plexus and then giving him a vicious knee to the groin.

 

The electricity from one of their strange blaster guns arced, but Spike hit the ground and rolled, coming up right under the soldier with the gun and knocking the butt into his jaw. He could hear the crack of bone, and he grinned broadly at the sound.

 

The third soldier sprung, sticking his taser into Spike’s side, but he shook it off easily, thrusting his elbow into the man’s throat. The soldier began gagging, and Spike snatched the taser, using it to bludgeon the man unconscious.

 

When all three soldiers were on the ground, Spike slipped away into the night, feeling a sense of relief that things had gone a little differently this time around. If he hadn’t had the ring, there was every possibility that he would have found himself in the Initiative labs again.

 

Spike was half-tempted to go see Giles or Buffy, to let them know about the altercation, but it was late. The next day was soon enough, and the Gem would keep him safe.

 

He’d feel a lot better when the Initiative was out of Sunnydale, though.


	15. Silence Falls

Tara watched as the Wicca meeting broke up, wishing she’d had enough courage to approach Willow, who seemed to know something about magic. She had joined the group with the hope that she would find others like her, people like her mom. Tara had wanted reassurance that she wasn’t the demon her father had claimed.

 

She rose and gathered her things, slinging her bag over one shoulder. As lonely as it could be at times, Tara was grateful for the opportunity to go to school, and even more thankful for the chance to get away from her family. She might not be Miss Popular, but at least she didn’t have people reminding her that she was going to turn into a demon when she turned twenty.

 

Thrusting that thought to the back of her mind, Tara hurried out of the student lounge. She had a paper to write and a reading assignment to finish, and she had no time to waste.

 

She was halfway back to her room when she got the sense that someone was following her. It was just a feeling, and when she glanced back over her shoulder, no one stood out, but Tara trusted her instincts. Her mom had always told her that she should.

 

Hurrying through the halls of her dorm, she ran right into a rather solid chest, and her bag fell to the floor, dumping her books and other materials all over. “Oh!”

 

“Sorry about that,” a rough voice said. “Should have been watching where I was going.”

 

Tara glanced up, instantly aware that the man had stopped to help her—and that he wasn’t a man at all. And yet—

 

“Oh…” She’d never seen an aura quite like his before. Tara knew he was a vampire, and yet it was clear that he had a soul, and that he was more than he appeared. It was also clear that he wasn’t your typical vampire, since he was walking around in the middle of the day.

 

He smiled at her uncertainly, tipping his head to the side. “You alright?”

 

“Yes,” Tara managed, not wanting to embarrass herself by stuttering, or by babbling out her observations. Although, as a vampire, he probably wouldn’t be that shocked by her mention of the supernatural.

 

“Here.” He handed her bag back to her; while she’d been staring, he’d collected her things and put them away.

 

“Th-th-thank you.” Tara clutched the bag to her chest, unsure of what to say, or whether she should say anything at all.

 

His blue eyes were kind as he spoke. “I’m Spike.”

 

“T-t-tara,” she managed. “Th-thank you. A-again.”

 

He shrugged. “Least I could do when I was the klutz who bowled you over in the first place.”

 

Tara nodded, having no idea what to say next, and began heading for her room.

 

Spike called out behind her, “Tara!”

 

She turned to look at him, startled. “Y-yes?”

 

“Look.” Spike moved closer and lowered his voice. “You probably know by now that this town has some strange things going on. You need help sometime, go see Willow or her roommate. Buffy’ll be able to help you, and she knows how to find me.”

 

Tara blinked, surprised. It was unusual—to say the least—to have a complete stranger offer that kind of assistance. She might have been suspicious except for his aura, and the clear sense of safety she got from him.

 

She had to wonder if he knew something she didn’t.

 

“O-okay.” He turned to go, and she called out after him, “D-do y-y-you know me?”

 

Spike turned, lifting one dark eyebrow, then offering a broad grin. “Better than you’d believe.”

 

Somehow, she knew he was telling the truth.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike was well satisfied with the afternoon’s work. He felt as though he’d established a connection, which was enough to start with. Sooner or later, her path would cross Willow’s again, or she would run into Buffy.

 

Of course, he would have to convince Buffy that the change was worth making. She seemed worried about altering things too much after what had happened with Willow and Oz.

 

He quickened his pace to reach Buffy’s dorm in time to meet her after class. Spike had yet to tell her about the soldiers’ attack the night before, and he knew that he was taking a chance by coming to the campus again. He’d proven—to himself, at least—that the soldiers couldn’t harm him while he had the ring, and Spike wasn’t about to let fear keep him away.

 

Spike hadn’t considered the fact that Willow might be the one to answer his knock, rather than Buffy.

 

“Spike.” Her eyes were large and wary, which Spike didn’t understand at all. He hadn’t hurt her; it was really the other way around.

 

“Buffy here?”

 

“She hasn’t come back from class yet.” Willow stood in the doorway for another second or two before hurriedly stepping aside. “I’m sorry. Come in.”

 

Spike stopped just inside the door, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He had no idea what to say to the girl, but he didn’t like the uncomfortable silence that fell.

 

“I’m really sorry,” Willow blurted out.

 

Spike sighed. “I know.”

 

“Buffy told me what happened,” she continued. “I never would have—”

 

Spike shook his head, cutting her off. “Red, don’t. Buffy and I both know better. Given half a chance, you will do it again, and the next time, the consequences might be worse.”

 

Willow sank down on the bed. “What’s the next time?”

 

“Don’t know that I want to tell you,” Spike said. “Know you’re blaming Buffy for Oz leaving. I don’t much want to come under fire for telling you what happens next.”

 

Willow was obviously stricken by his remark. “Spike…please. Just tell me.”

 

“Wasn’t so bad when Glory came into town,” Spike admitted, leaning against the doorframe. “You were about the only one who could hope to match her for power, and we—Buffy needed you. No doubt about it. But you conjured a troll that nearly killed Harris, then you brought the Slayer back from the dead—ripped her out of heaven and caused all sorts of problems. You erased—well, you were messing about with our memories right and left, and let’s not even get into the whole near-apocalypse.”

 

She seemed to be shrinking as he listed a litany of her sins, and seeing the contrite expression on her face, Spike softened his tone. “I’m not saying that any of us are or were perfect, pet,” he said gently. “But you gotta remember. We’ve both got baggage—memories of things that happened that maybe will never happen again, but we don’t know what to change.”

 

“It’s not your fault—Oz leaving,” Willow blurted out. “I said that because I was mad.”

 

“Yeah, well…” Spike wanted to forgive her. In a way, he already had, if only because Willow’s spell had acted as the catalyst to get Buffy to admit her true feelings for him. Perhaps she still would have done so without it, but he knew it had helped.

 

Even if it had been a bloody painful awakening.

 

“Think if you can promise to ask one of us before you try a spell like that again, we can let it go,” Spike said finally.

 

“I already promised Buffy that I would,” Willow said.

 

“Good enough.” Spike moved aside as the door opened. He smiled when he saw Buffy. “How’s things?”

 

“Good.” Buffy gave him a quick peck on the lips, then looked between him and Willow nervously. “What’s going on?”

 

Willow shrugged. “I just wanted to apologize.”

 

Buffy smiled, although she appeared distracted to Spike’s eye. “Good.”

 

“What’s wrong?” Spike asked, deciding that revealing his run-in with the soldiers could wait until later.

 

Buffy sighed. “I had a Slayer dream during class. It was a little disorienting.”

 

Willow frowned. “Was it different than the one you had the last time?”

 

Buffy blushed. “More than a little.”

 

“When are the Gentlemen supposed to come to town?” Spike asked, wondering about her apparent embarrassment.

 

Buffy frowned, clearly trying to recall. “Tonight, I think, but they don’t start taking hearts until tomorrow night.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Then we’ll go tomorrow during the day. They won’t be expecting it, and we’ll catch them by surprise.”

 

If only it had actually been that easy.

 

~~~~~

 

“So what was in that dream of yours that had you blushing?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy had been afraid that he would catch her embarrassment, although she was grateful that he’d waited until they were out of earshot of Willow. “It wasn’t a big deal,” Buffy replied.

 

Spike lifted an eyebrow, getting that expression that she was coming to know all too well. Now that he was a little more secure in the fact that she loved him, he wasn’t quite as hesitant about pushing her. “You were the one who was getting aroused at the very thought.”

 

That observation only caused Buffy to turn a brighter shade of red. “Let’s just say that it was all about you until I heard the little girl singing.” She frowned. “That’s not right.”

 

“What isn’t right?” he asked, acknowledging the change in subject.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I was in Professor Walsh’s class the last time I had the Slayer dream. I remember because Riley was in it, and Willow woke me up.”

 

Spike’s brow furrowed, although she couldn’t tell whether it was at the mention of her ex-boyfriend or at the sudden change in events. “Hard to say if it’s because you’re not seeing Riley this time around, or if it’s because something else is different.”

 

“Would the Gentlemen know?” Buffy asked. “Is it possible?”

 

“I’ve learned that almost anything is possible,” Spike replied. “But it’s hard to say. There’s some that would theorize that any little change could cause a much bigger one down the road. Suppose the question is what we’ve changed.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. There’s you and me, but Oz still left, Xander’s still seeing Anya, Giles’ friend is still coming into town.”

 

Spike hesitated. “You’re forgetting a big one.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I’m not chipped.” He then added, “And I thrashed a group of them the other night.”

 

Buffy glared at him, although she wasn’t angry that Spike had hurt a bunch of them, but rather that he hadn’t informed her until that moment. “Spike! When were you planning on telling me?”

 

“Today, when I got a chance. It just happened last night,” he said, holding up his hands defensively. “I had an errand to run, and a bunch of them got the jump on me. You’ll be happy to know that the Gem of Amara works just as well against Tasers as against sunshine.”

 

“That is a relief,” she said, a touch of sarcasm in her tone. “Crap. Do you think they’ll be able to recognize you again?”

 

“Hell if I know,” Spike replied. “It was over quick, Buffy.”

 

“How did they know you were a vampire?”

 

“Same way they knew last time, for all I know,” Spike shot back. “This isn’t my fault, pet. We knew it could happen.”

 

She sighed, reaching over to take his hand. “I’m not angry at you. I’m just worried.”

 

“There’s no need as long as I have the ring,” Spike replied, wiggling his ring finger.

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “And if something happens and you lose the ring? I think I have the right to worry about you, Spike.”

 

He smiled. “Wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do.”

 

Buffy snorted. “Well, you might dream about it.”

 

“We going to see your Watcher now?” Spike asked. “Since you had that dream.”

 

Buffy thought for a minute, trying to remember when Olivia was supposed to be getting into town. “We probably better. If Olivia isn’t there yet, they might not have gotten started.”

 

“Started what?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy glared at him, knowing that Spike knew exactly what she’d meant. “Don’t make me say it.”

 

He just grinned. “Better get over there then.”

 

Buffy grimaced. “I’m making you knock.”

 

“No problem.” Spike gave her a mischievous look. “I don’t mind the thought of Rupert shagging a good looking bird.”

 

“Ew, Spike!”

 

~~~~~

 

Giles considered Buffy’s story, and the description of her dream. “And how was this dream different than the last?”

 

Buffy looked abashed. “It had Spike in it, for one thing.”

 

“Anything else?”

 

She grimaced. “Does it matter?”

 

“It might.” Giles gave her his best Watcher look. “Tell me, Buffy.”

 

She sighed. “I was sitting in class, and the lights went dark. There wasn’t anybody else there except for me and then Spike. And then we—” She stopped abruptly. “It’s not really important. I heard the singing. The little girl and the box was the same, and so was the song.”

 

Giles had a feeling that he knew exactly what Buffy was hesitating to say, and if he was right, he really didn’t want the details. “Then nothing changed except for your location when you had the dream, and the fact that Spike was in the dream?”

 

“Pretty much.” Buffy looked hopeful. “You don’t think that much has changed, do you?”

 

Giles shook his head. He was as much in the dark as Buffy or Spike, and probably even more so. “I honestly don’t know, Buffy. Perhaps it means nothing. No one is really sure how Slayer dreams work, although the general theory is that whatever force that provides it moves through the subconscious.”

 

“Then Buffy’s memories and knowledge of the future would inform what she’s seeing in her dreams, which would explain why she saw me, and not the soldier,” Spike said.

 

Giles and Buffy stared at him. “What?” Spike demanded.

 

Buffy smiled as though something had been confirmed. “Nothing.”

 

Spike looked at Giles with an eyebrow raised. “Well?”

 

“I had no idea you had such a good grasp on the situation,” Giles said mildly. “The fact is, no one has ever been able to time travel, not to the extent that you have, Buffy. Therefore, no one knows how much can be changed, or how far-reaching one alteration might be.”

 

He looked up at the clock. “Olivia should be here soon. You’ll come by tomorrow once you’ve seen to the Gentlemen?”

 

“We’ll call you,” Buffy corrected. “Unless something goes horribly wrong. And I’ll call everyone tonight and let them know what to expect. With any luck, we’ll have this wrapped before anybody can freak out too much.”

 

“Very good.” Giles watched as they left. He was still a little surprised at Spike’s intelligent summation, although he probably should have known better. After months of close contact with the vampire, it was clear that there was much more to him than met the eye.

 

~~~~~

 

If Willow hadn’t been warned, waking up mute would have really freaked her out, instead of only being slightly freaky. She was grateful that Buffy had decided to spend the night at the dorms, rather than with Spike. It was nice to have company in her confusion. Buffy might be able to take it all in stride, but she’d been through this once before.

 

Upon waking up, Willow took several deep breaths to calm herself. Buffy seemed to catch her incipient panic and immediately came over to hug her. For the first time since casting the spell, Willow felt as though Buffy had forgiven her.

 

Buffy smiled reassuringly as she pulled back, and then went over to the desk for a pen and pad of paper. “It’s okay. Spike’s picking us up this morning.”

 

“Where are we going?” Willow scribbled back.

 

“We’ll drop you off at my mom’s place, and then go kill the Gentlemen,” Buffy wrote. “No problem.”

 

Willow made a face, thinking that Buffy had just jinxed them for sure.

 

When Spike showed up about half an hour later, Willow could only assume that he and Buffy had arranged the time the day before. He smiled at her, then drove to the Summers’ residence. Willow wondered why they were going to see Buffy’s mom, but soon realized that it was probably because Joyce would be alone otherwise. After all, Xander had Anya, and Giles had Olivia at the moment, so it only made sense for Willow to keep Joyce company.

 

Joyce welcomed all three of them warmly, if silently. She hugged both Spike and Buffy, and then put her arm around Willow’s shoulders. Not for the first time did Willow envy Buffy her mother. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time her mom had hugged her. In truth, she couldn’t remember the last time her mom had paid her any attention at all, except for the time when she’d tried to burn her at the stake.

 

Willow didn’t count that time, however, because it had been produced by a spell.

 

With a sudden sinking feeling, Willow realized what the spell had done to Spike and Buffy. She remembered what it had felt like to have her mother actually show an interest in her for the first time in years, and what it had meant when she realized that it was just a spell. It had hurt, and Willow knew that it would have been the same for Spike and Buffy, particularly given what Buffy had told her about what had happened between them.

 

“We’re taking off,” Buffy wrote on a piece of paper. “You’ll stay here?”

 

Willow nodded, impulsively giving her friend another hug. “Be careful,” she mouthed.

 

Spike and Buffy left, leaving her alone with Joyce. They stared at one another for a moment, and then Joyce headed into the kitchen. It didn’t take Willow too long to realize that the woman was planning on making tea, and she willingly joined in.

 

Willow had to admit that Buffy’s idea was a good one. With anyone else on that day, Willow would have felt like a third wheel; with Joyce, she felt like she could actually do some good.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy led the way to the clock tower on campus where the Gentlemen had taken up residence the last time. She could feel Spike just behind her, his presence steadying. As the Slayer, Buffy had faced a lot of enemies, and she’d been scared plenty of times, but the Gentlemen had been one of her creepiest foes. The utter helplessness that had come from being rendered mute, and the knowledge that the only thing that would save her and her friends was screaming like a girl—it hadn’t been much fun.

 

Buffy was just grateful that she and Spike were in a good place, and that they could communicate so well without speaking. They had been prepared to wake up in silence that morning, she had warned Xander to stay at home, and she knew that Giles would likely do the same. Willow would keep her mom company, and thus everyone was safe.

 

At least until that evening.

 

“Shit,” Buffy said, albeit silently. The clock tower stood empty, and there was no sign of the Gentlemen or their minions. She turned to Spike, but it was clear that he was as much in the dark as she. Perhaps even more so, because Spike had spent most of his time tied up last time.

 

Spike reached into his jacket pocket for the pad of paper he’d grabbed. “What now?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know,” she scribbled back. “Where else would they be?”

 

That was the key question. The fact was that the Gentlemen might have set up shop anywhere in town, and while Buffy certainly had more information than she’d had the last time around, it still wasn’t enough.

 

It might not be enough to prevent the deaths that the night was sure to bring.

 

“We hunt tonight,” Spike wrote out. “Only thing to do.”

 

He was right, of course, but Buffy felt the cold hand of fear clamp down on her heart. So far, nearly everything had been the same, but it appeared that the changes they’d already made were beginning to have a ripple effect.

 

If that was the case, and they couldn’t fix everything, or predict everything, how were they supposed to save the future?


	16. The Longest Night

After Buffy’s warning about the Gentlemen, Xander decided that the best thing to do would be to hole up in his basement with Anya. “Buffy said that the whole town is going to shut down,” Xander had said. “We could rent movies and just hang out, since we won’t be able to talk. That way, you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

 

In truth, Xander wasn’t expecting to have more than a day off of work. Buffy and Spike knew where the Gentlemen would be, and they were certainly capable of taking care of the problem. There was no reason for the silence to reign for more than one day.

 

That was why, when Xander woke up next to Anya the next morning, still unable to speak, he knew that something had gone wrong.

 

Anya clutched at his arms, the question in her eyes clear, even if she couldn’t speak it aloud. “What happened?”

 

Xander didn’t know what to tell her, but he knew where to go for answers. He was grateful that he’d stocked up on paper and a supply of pens before they’d lost their voices. Scribbling quickly, he wrote a note and passed it over.

 

“We need to go to Giles’.”

 

Anya nodded, then began reaching for her discarded clothing. Xander was glad that she wasn’t panicking too badly, although he wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. There would have had to have been a serious complication if the bad guys weren’t dead yet.

 

Xander felt Anya slip her hand into his, and he squeezed gently, hoping to reassure her. He needed the comfort of contact himself.

 

~~~~~

 

“We looked all night,” Buffy wrote, the dark circles under her eyes confirming her assertion. “No sign.”

 

Giles didn’t like the sound of that. It was impossible to know what had changed, to keep the Gentlemen from setting up shop in the same place twice. “Where else would they be?”

 

“I don’t know!”

 

He could feel her frustration through the written words, seeing it in her hard jab at the paper that she punctuated her sentence with. Giles tried to be reassuring. “You know what to look for,” he encouraged.

 

Buffy shook her head, turning away. Spike was the one to put words to both their feelings. “Two dead,” he wrote. “Nothing we could do. They hit different people this time.”

 

Giles looked over at Olivia, who was watching them with a drink in hand. He’d at least had a chance to warn her of what was coming, although he hadn’t thought it would last quite so long. Perhaps he should have discouraged her from coming to Sunnydale altogether, but their visits were so few and far between, Giles hadn’t wanted to put it off.

 

He was regretting that decision now; Olivia might not be in any real danger, but she had been exposed to a part of his life that he’d never thought to share with her.

 

“All you can do is patrol tonight,” Giles wrote back. “See if you can find them.”

 

While Giles was aware that his words wouldn’t do much to comfort Buffy, knowing how personally she took it when she failed to save a life, it was all he had to offer. Not even a spell would work, without being able to voice words to invoke the magic. Spike wrapped an arm around Buffy’s shoulders for a brief hug, then wrote, “We’d better see Joyce.”

 

Buffy nodded, her eyes asking Giles to understand. Although everyone else had chosen to gather at his apartment, he knew that Buffy’s mother would be alone. “Bring her here?” he wrote.

 

Buffy frowned, then shrugged. “Maybe,” she wrote. “If she wants.”

 

Spike and Buffy departed soon after, and Giles watched them go, heading over to Olivia to offer what reassurance he could. Xander and the girls were gathered around the television, listening to the welcome sounds of people speaking.

 

Giles just hoped that Buffy and Spike found a way to stop the Gentlemen before they did more harm.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike was beyond tired, worn out by a day and a night of hunting for the elusive Gentlemen. There seemed to be no way to find the creatures, except to run across one of them or their minions and track it back to their lair.

 

Both he and Buffy were aware that another night would bring more death, which they were powerless to prevent.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Spike’s eyes fluttered open to see Joyce looking down at him with concern. Spike had insisted that Buffy take a nap, since there wasn’t much they could do during the daylight hours. Joyce had written a note suggesting that he take the guest bedroom, but Spike had refused, not wanting to sleep.

 

Spike offered her a smile, putting his hand over hers and glancing at the clock. It was getting late; he probably should wake Buffy so they could begin their search all over again.

 

Seeing Joyce look over her shoulder, Spike saw Buffy come into the living room, raising her eyebrows in a silent question. He nodded and rose, touching Joyce on the cheek in a farewell gesture.

 

“Stay inside,” Buffy mouthed as they left, and her mother nodded to let her know that she understood, just before grabbing Buffy and pulling her into a long embrace. Spike watched as Buffy clung to her mother in response.

 

When the two women broke apart, Spike took Buffy’s hand, and they both set off into the night. He wished he remembered more about what had happened the last time. All he knew was that he’d been at Giles’ apartment when his voice returned. From what he recalled, Xander and Anya had been there, but Willow had gone back to the dorms.

 

Buffy stopped, her brow furrowed in thought.

 

Spike stayed still, watching her patiently, trusting Buffy’s memories and instincts. When she began to walk towards campus, he followed her closely, wondering what she was thinking. As they approached Stevenson Hall, Spike began to understand, although he thought it was a long shot. There was no indication that the Gentlemen would show up on campus, since so many things seemed to have changed.

 

It was as good a place as any to start their search, however, and Spike paused when he saw Tara hurrying across the campus, books clutched against her chest.

 

Spike pointed at the girl, and Buffy nodded with grim satisfaction, as though she’d expected to see her. They both began to run at the same time, skidding to a stop in between Tara and the approaching minions.

 

If Buffy noticed that Tara seemed to recognize him, she didn’t react. Instead, she put herself between Tara and the creatures, and waved him over to Tara. Spike knew exactly what she wanted him to do; she wanted him to get Tara to safety while she took on the Gentlemen by herself.

 

Spike shook his head vehemently, not wanting to leave her to deal with the creatures on her own.

 

Buffy met his eyes, and he could see that he wasn’t going to get anywhere. It was important that she track the Gentlemen to their lair, where the box was located, and someone had to make sure that Tara was safe.

 

After a long moment, Spike finally nodded, pulling Tara away with him. If nothing else, he could get her to safety and then track Buffy by scent. The first stop, by default, was going to be Buffy’s dorm room. He didn’t know if Willow would be there or not, but it was worth a try, and the closest sanctuary they had.

 

In all honesty, Spike didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed that they weren’t followed into the residence hall. While the lack of pursuit did give him the opportunity to ensure Tara was safe, it also meant that Buffy would have her hands full.

 

Spike ushered Tara into the dorm and towards Buffy and Willow’s room, hoping that the witch had decided to come back to the dorms as she had the last time.

 

He rapped sharply on the door, then did it again when he got no answer, cursing silently. After a moment, the door opened a crack, and Willow peeked out. Her eyes widened when she saw him with Tara, and she stepped aside to let them enter.

 

Spike shook his head, refusing her unspoken invitation, but he nudged Tara inside the door. “Stay inside,” he mouthed to Willow, waiting for her nod to be sure that she understood him.

 

He took off running as soon as the door was closed and he heard the click of the lock. Pausing briefly outside the dorm to catch Buffy’s scent, Spike began running in the same direction that she’d gone.

 

It didn’t take him very long to figure out where Buffy was heading. There was an old chapel just off the campus grounds, which had been in use when the university had first been built. Spike knew about it only because he’d run across it while searching for the Gem of Amara. In a way, it made sense that the Gentlemen would set up there, since there was little chance anyone would spot them. Their activity had been a lot more visible in the old clock tower.

 

When Spike spotted one of the minions entering the chapel through the front door, he redoubled his pace. He barely managed to duck the shot that was immediately fired at him, rolling across the floor and coming to rest at the feet of one of the shambling mummies. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike could see Riley take aim with his gun again, but his attention was drawn back to the demon standing over him.

 

The creature made a grab for him, but was repelled momentarily by another blast from one of the Initiative guns. Spike knew that the blast had been meant for him, and he wished that he could point out to the soldier that they were on the same side—for the moment.

 

There was no time to attempt to communicate that fact, however, and Spike didn’t have time to deal with ducking both the Gentlemen and the misguided soldier. Spike grabbed the creature by the throat and the rags around its middle and threw it across the room, right into Riley, bowling the man over.

 

Spike gave a satisfied nod when the soldier didn’t get up, thinking that he and Buffy would have time to break the box and destroy the demons. Speaking of Buffy—

 

Looking around frantically, Spike finally spotted the Slayer inside a knot of demons. Two of the minions were holding her down, bent backwards over the altar rail, while one of the Gentlemen approached her with an upraised scalpel.

 

Spike rushed at the minion on the left, crashing through the altar rail and breaking its hold on Buffy, then allowing the momentum to carry him right into one of the Gentlemen. He grunted silently with the impact, but was on his feet again in moments.

 

Buffy had managed to shake off the second minion and was sprinting for the pulpit, where a carved wooden box rested. Spike realized that that was the box in which their voices were stored, and he made a grab for the Gentleman attempting to intercept her, grabbing onto its coattails.

 

It was just enough force to keep the thing from getting to Buffy, and she dropped the box on the floor and then stomped, reducing it to splinters.

 

Spike saw the white wisps floating up from the wreckage, and he knew immediately when he had his voice back. Buffy was the one to do the honors, however, since he wasn’t quite ready to scream.

 

The Gentlemen froze at the first sound that emerged from Buffy’s throat, and then they began to shake until their heads—quite literally—exploded. Unfortunately, Spike was entirely too close to one of them.

 

Spike was at Buffy’s side in a moment. “You okay, luv?”

 

Buffy nodded. “I forgot how gross that was.”

 

“You’re telling me.” Spike shook his arm to get the green snot-like substance off. “Was Captain Cardboard here when you showed up?”

 

Buffy nodded. “I knew there was a chance that he’d see me tonight, but I was hoping that he wouldn’t show this time. I guess we’re going to have to tell him something.”

 

“More than something,” Spike responded grimly. “He saw me and started firing immediately. He must have been one of the soldiers who jumped me the other night.”

 

“Crap.” Buffy looked around the dilapidated interior. “Where is he?”

 

Spike shrugged. “I tossed a mummy at him to keep him out of my way. Figure he got knocked out.”

 

It didn’t take long to spot the soldier’s still form, and Buffy rushed over to his side. Spike took his time, not really caring if Riley had been hurt. After all, the man _had_ been shooting at him.

 

“Spike, he’s dead,” Buffy announced.

 

Spike blinked, then moved closer. “What?”

 

“His neck is broken.” Buffy looked up at him, and he could see the accusation in her eyes. “You killed him.”

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words left her mouth. Whatever Spike’s feelings for Riley Finn had been, Buffy knew that he hadn’t intended to kill the man. Whether a product of the ring enhancing his strength, or just a freak accident, it hadn’t been intentional.

 

Spike’s face closed off, but not before Buffy had seen the brief flash of hurt mixed with guilt. “Yeah. Guess I did.”

 

“I didn’t mean it that way, Spike,” Buffy said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Why?” Spike looked grim. “He’s dead, isn’t he? And I’m the one that caused it.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “It was an accident. This kind of thing happens in the middle of a fight. What did you tell me after Katrina died? That it was an accident, that things just happen sometimes.”

 

Spike shook his hand. “I threw the thing, and so I’m the one responsible. That’s the way it works, isn’t it? I get it now, Buffy.”

 

“No, you don’t get it, Spike.” Buffy knew that they didn’t have time to argue about whose fault it was; it was more important to decide what they were going to do about Riley’s body. “We can argue about this later. What are we going to do about it?”

 

Spike ran a hand over his face, taking a deep, unnecessary breath. “Leave it.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “Really?”

 

“It’s the bloody secret forces, Summers,” Spike snapped. “What do you think they’re going to do? Declare it murder and start a manhunt? No, they’re going to say it was a training exercise gone wrong, and they won’t know any different if we don’t say anything.”

 

Buffy nodded slowly, seeing the logic behind Spike’s plan. If they didn’t do anything with the body, the Initiative would likely believe that Riley had been killed by the monsters he’d been hunting. “Okay. We have to tell Giles, though.”

 

“Why not?” Spike muttered.

 

Buffy had no idea what to say to him to repair the damage she’d already caused. Nor did she want to explain the fact that she was refusing to think about the fact that Riley was dead. She couldn’t cry about this—not in front of Spike. “I don’t think we should go over there tonight, though. Giles is probably going to have some explaining to do with Olivia.”

 

Spike nodded shortly. “You should get back to the dorm. You’ve got classes tomorrow.”

 

Buffy wasn’t sure that she liked that idea, but didn’t really want to argue either. She wasn’t angry at Spike, exactly, but she couldn’t help blaming him just a little. “Okay. Will I see you tomorrow?”

 

“Let me know when and where.” Spike motioned to the door. “We’d better get going before anybody comes looking for him.”

 

Buffy led the way out of the chapel. Spike walked with her in silence; she didn’t know what to say. “Are you okay?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Spike asked gruffly. “Never liked the big git anyway.”

 

“Spike!” Buffy stared at him, feeling a rising anger at his insensitivity.

 

He glared at her. “What? It’s true. I’m not gonna start lying about how we could have been best of friends if only the circumstances had been different. Besides, the feeling was mutual. Finn would have killed me given half a chance.” Spike’s eyes sparked yellow in the darkness. “He tried to capture me the other night, remember?”

 

Buffy took a deep breath, for once recognizing Spike’s anger for the defense mechanism that it was. She had seen his remorse and guilt after turning all those people while under the influence of the First. While he might not be sorry that they didn’t have to worry about Riley reporting back to the Initiative about them, Buffy was certain that Spike _did_ feel some guilt.

 

“You’re right.” She never had liked saying those words. “There’s no point in saying anything you don’t mean, and Riley would probably have killed you if he had the chance.”

 

Spike looked a little startled by her admission, and his face softened. “Right, then. You okay?”

 

“I’m fine, Spike,” Buffy replied. “I was over Riley a long time ago.” They stood outside Stevenson Hall awkwardly, looking at one another and then away again. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

 

He moved his shoulders in the approximation of a shrug. “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow, Slayer.”

 

Buffy watched him go, disappearing into the shadows easily. It was so easy for her to forget these days that Spike was still a creature of the night. He was a vampire, and while he did have a soul, there was still a difference there.

 

She shook her head, reminding herself of all the changes that Spike had made for her, of the chance he’d taken by coming back to the past with her. Buffy knew that she might easily have done what Spike had.

 

The circumstances surrounding Riley’s death weren’t much different than those behind the deputy mayor’s, the man that Faith had killed. Except that Riley had at least known the risks.

 

Buffy let herself into the room, seeing Willow sitting at her desk while Tara sat on her bed. “Buffy!” Willow said. “Are you okay?”

 

Buffy didn’t want to talk about what had happened—not now, and not in front of Tara. “I’m fine.” She smiled at the other girl. “Hey.”

 

Tara smiled shyly. “Hi.”

 

“Buffy, this is Tara. Tara, this is Buffy, my roommate.” Willow’s expression was torn, and she was clearly uncertain about how much to tell the other woman. “Tara was coming here to try to find a spell.”

 

Buffy vaguely remembered that fact. After Willow had started dating Tara, she’d explained how they’d met. Buffy knew that it had happened during the Gentlemen’s visit, but she had been less clear on Tara’s reason for showing up. “That’s great,” Buffy said.

 

“I w-w-w-wasn’t any help,” Tara finally managed to get out.

 

Buffy smiled wearily. “Stick around, and you’ll have plenty of chances.” She looked at Willow. “If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed.”

 

Willow nodded. “Oh, sure! I’m just going to walk Tara back to her dorm.”

 

“Are you sure?” Buffy asked. “Maybe I should go, too.”

 

Willow shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

 

Buffy nodded, grateful for the privacy and too tired to argue. She gathered her robe and bathroom kit, and went to take a shower. Once the water was running hot, Buffy stepped under the spray, letting go of the grief that had been threatening to well up.

 

She hadn’t lied to Spike; Buffy had gotten over Riley long before, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t cared about him. Nor did it take away the sting of guilt, knowing that if she hadn’t come back to the past, Riley wouldn’t have died.

Buffy had never believed that they would change things for the worse.


	17. Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You’ll probably notice that I’ve taken some liberties with the timing in canon. Since I’m running the show, I’m allowed to do that.

“Are you going to invite Spike for Christmas, Buffy?” Joyce asked. “I think you should.”

 

Buffy had almost forgotten about the holidays, with everything that had been going on. Things between her and Spike had been rather strained for the last week. She’d used the necessity to prepare for finals as an excuse to not go over to his apartment as much. Spike had claimed to understand and had encouraged her to study.

 

Now, finals were over, Christmas was just around the corner, and Buffy had no idea what to get him.

 

“Sure, Mom. If you want me to invite Spike, I will.” Buffy forced a smile, picking at the food on her plate. With her first semester done, Buffy could also focus on spending some quality time with her mother—also a good excuse for not seeing as much of Spike.

 

“What happened between you two?” Joyce asked quietly.

 

Buffy started guiltily, already having gotten lost in her own thoughts again. “What?”

 

“You two were doing fine, and now you’re making excuses not to see him.” Joyce frowned. “Did Spike do something to make you angry, sweetheart?”

 

Buffy shook her head silently, not knowing how to explain or what to say. In a way, it had been comforting to know that Riley was alive, but that he would never fall for her. She could avoid the pain she’d caused him by not including him in her life, by not loving him enough. Now he was dead, and it was as much her fault as Spike’s.

 

After all, returning to the past had been her idea.

 

“It wasn’t Spike’s fault,” she finally said.

 

Joyce reached across the table, grabbing Buffy’s hand. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

 

“It—it’s complicated, Mom,” Buffy objected. She had told Giles, of course. Both she and Spike together had explained what had happened to her Watcher. Giles hadn’t known Riley, however, so there was no feeling there. He’d simply told them that sometimes accidents happened, and that he would give them whatever support they needed.

 

Joyce sighed. “It might be complicated, but do give me a little credit, Buffy. I may not know as much about monsters as you do, but I know a little about broken hearts.”

 

“Spike didn’t break my heart,” Buffy said quickly, not wanting her mother to think badly of him. “It’s just—when we were fighting the Gentlemen, one of the Initiative soldiers was there. Riley.”

 

“You knew him?”

 

“He was a TA for my psych class,” Buffy explained. “And—and he was my boyfriend. The first time around. He and Spike never got along, and I guess he tried to stake Spike at some point. We broke up, and it was bad. Anyway…”

 

She trailed off. This was the part of her job that she didn’t like her mom to know about—the part with the killing. Then again, her mom had been around the previous year when she and Faith had been accused of killing the deputy mayor.

 

“Riley started shooting at Spike, because he knew about the vampire thing, and Spike threw one of the demons at him.” Buffy rushed to explain. “It was an accident. I know that Spike wouldn’t have killed him intentionally, not unless it was self defense.”

 

Joyce frowned. “But wasn’t it self defense, Buffy?”

 

“What?”

 

“If this Riley person was shooting at Spike, and I’m assuming was trying to kill him, then anything Spike did was self defense.” Joyce raised her eyebrows. “I realize that you both probably feel bad about what happened, and it’s a horrible accident, but that’s what it was.”

 

“I know that,” Buffy said quietly. “But I said something I shouldn’t have, and I know that Spike feels guilty. And I feel guilty, because Riley wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t come back to the past, and—I still cared about him, Mom. I wasn’t in love with him, but…”

 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Joyce came around the table to embrace her. “Do you feel guilty for grieving?”

 

“A little bit,” Buffy admitted, feeling the tears begin to creep down her cheeks. “And guilty that he’s dead, and guilty for what I said to Spike. I just wasn’t thinking.”

 

“It was a very difficult situation.”

 

It was so easy to let her mother hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay, that it wasn’t her fault, and that the grief would pass. Buffy hadn’t been able to mourn until that moment—she was hesitant to burden Willow with her grief when the other girl wouldn’t really understand, and she couldn’t talk to Spike.

 

In truth, that was the worst part. For the first time since coming back to the past, there was something she couldn’t talk to Spike about.

 

When Buffy finally pulled back, swiping at her wet cheeks, she felt a little better. “Thanks, Mom.”

 

“Are you going to be okay?”

 

“Yeah.” Buffy took a deep breath. “I should probably see Spike tonight.”

 

Joyce smiled and touched her cheek. “I think you should.”

 

“What do I say, Mom?”

 

“Do you love him?”

 

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. More than anything.”

 

“Then tell him that.” Joyce pulled her back into a brief hug. “That’s probably the best place to start.”

 

~~~~~

 

Willow offered Tara a smile. “How did finals go?”

 

“Good.” Tara was amazed that she’d actually made a friend while at college. Since Spike had led her to the safety of Willow’s room, they’d managed to form a bond brought about by their shared love of magic. In a sense, Willow was everything that Tara wished she could be: bubbly, silly, with a close-knit circle of friends, and a growing magical ability.

 

Tara already knew that Willow’s power was greater than hers, and that she would become even stronger as time went on. She didn’t envy the other girl, however. With great power often came great responsibility—and even greater temptation. Her mother had talked a lot about the wise use of magic.

 

“How, um, how is Spike?” Tara asked. She hadn’t seen him since the night that the Gentlemen came to town.

 

Willow shook her head. “I haven’t seen him recently. After—after he and Buffy took care of the Gentlemen, he kind of disappeared.”

 

“W-why?”

 

Willow hesitated, clearly trying to decide whether or not to trust Tara with the information. “When they fought the Gentlemen, someone got hurt, and it was kind of Spike’s fault. It was an accident, but…” She made a face. “They aren’t really talking much right now.”

 

Tara winced. “That’s too bad. Spike seemed nice.”

 

“He is,” Willow agreed. “He wasn’t always, but he’s definitely nice now.”

 

Silence fell, the sort that often occurred in the early stages of a friendship. Tara wasn’t sure what to say, or where to direct the conversation. “What are you doing for the break?”

 

Willow shrugged. “Mostly just hanging out. What about you? Are you going to be able to go home?”

 

Tara hadn’t explained yet that she had tried very hard to make sure that her family couldn’t find her. Most people seemed not to understand. She could say that she didn’t get along with her family, but that didn’t really cover it.

 

“No. It’s—we don’t really get along.”

 

Willow looked sympathetic. “Yeah, I hear you. My parents barely speak to me anymore.”

 

“Why?” Tara asked, surprised. She would have thought that Willow would be the perfect child, someone any parent would be proud of.

 

“They’re busy.” Willow fiddled with the cardboard to-go cup, still half full of mocha. “You could hang out with us, if you want. I don’t know what Xander is doing this year, but his family isn’t so great either, and Buffy said something about spending Christmas Eve together.”

 

Tara wasn’t sure about accepting the invitation. The only thing worse than being alone over the holidays was the awkwardness of being with strangers, but she knew Willow, and she’d at least met Buffy and Spike. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

 

“Okay,” she finally said. “That might be fun.”

 

~~~~~

 

It had been a long time since Spike had drunk to excess—since before the soul. He didn’t think that he’d spent an entire week pissed since Drusilla had left him, although he’d been tempted while Buffy had kept him dangling.

 

The guilt, along with Buffy’s willingness to blame him for Riley’s death, had caused him to seek solace in a bottle. Every time he called, Buffy had an excuse for why she couldn’t see him. All of her excuses _sounded_ valid, but he knew that she was running away again.

 

Spike suspected that much of it had to do with grief—he might have done the same had Buffy staked Drusilla. Not that he wanted to know if Buffy was grieving for the soldier; he preferred to be in the dark about that.

 

No, that wasn’t precisely true. Spike wanted to be there for her, even if it meant having to deal with the fact that she still had feelings for the bastard.

 

The knock on his apartment door startled him out of his reverie. For a moment, Spike contemplated letting his visitor believe that no one was home, but then decided to get it over with. It could be Buffy, wanting his help fighting some demon, and he had promised to watch her back, however he felt at the moment.

 

He stumbled slightly as he walked to the door. Spike hadn’t been sure if the Gem of Amara would decrease his chances of getting drunk, and so he’d taken it off. He’d just wanted to forget for a while.

 

To forget how quickly, how easily, everything could change.

 

Buffy stood in the doorway, staring at him. “How long has it been since you ate, Spike?”

 

“Nice to see you, too, Slayer,” Spike muttered, walking away from her, leaving the door open.

 

Buffy stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “You look like shit.”

 

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I can look in a mirror.” He dropped into the armchair that Buffy had helped him pick out, mostly so that she wouldn’t sit next to him. Spike didn’t think he could deal with her proximity right now.

 

Buffy marched over to the fridge, peering inside. “Is any of this blood fresh?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

She grabbed one of the tubs of blood. “Can vampires get sick off of bad blood?”

 

“What does it matter?”

 

Buffy glared at him. “Right now, I’m thinking that it doesn’t. Call me crazy, but I care.”

 

“Could have fooled me.”

 

He could hear her sigh. “I’m sorry.”

 

She did sound sorry, Spike would give her that. “Yeah.”

 

“Mom wanted me to invite you over for Christmas,” Buffy stated.

 

Spike contemplated the bottle of whiskey that sat on the side table, still half full. He wondered if Buffy would join him for a drink if he asked, or if she’d turn up her nose. “That her idea or yours?”

 

“Hers,” she admitted, pulling a mug of blood out of the microwave. “But it’s not like I don’t want you there.”

 

Spike stayed silent, knowing that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something that he would regret later.

 

Buffy came over and handed him the mug. “Will you come?”

 

“If your mum wants me there, I’ll be there.” Spike kept his tone carefully even, beginning to drink down the blood.

 

She plopped down on the couch, staring at him in frustration. “Okay, I know that I overreacted last week, but I know it was an accident, Spike. I didn’t mean what I said.”

 

Spike met her eyes forthrightly. “Then why have you been avoiding me?” When she opened her mouth to deny it, he cut her off. “No. Don’t lie to me.”

 

“Fine. I’ve been avoiding you,” she admitted. “I just didn’t know what to say.”

 

He maintained a stubborn silence, having no intention of making this easier on her. Spike did feel guilt over the soldier’s death, even if he hadn’t cared much for the man. Riley might be an arrogant, over-bearing prick, but Spike could admit—if only to himself—that he hadn’t been evil, or deserving of death.

 

Spike hadn’t meant for Riley to die, but he hadn’t been real careful either. There was a part of him that wondered if he hadn’t meant to kill the soldier, at least subconsciously, and if so, whether he could really be trusted with the rest of the population.

 

After all, the First had managed to subvert him, causing him to kill a dozen or more people. Maybe Buffy should have staked him in that basement.

 

“Spike, talk to me,” Buffy said. “What’s going through your head?”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “You wishing you had staked me?”

 

Buffy’s eyes went wide. “What? When?”

 

“After you found out I’d turned all those people.”

 

“That wasn’t you, Spike. That was the First.” Buffy looked dismayed. “Riley’s death wasn’t your fault.”

 

“Didn’t you say I’d killed him?”

 

“I told you that I overreacted.” Buffy sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

 

Spike knew that he was acting like a prat, and he was probably making this a lot harder than it needed to be. “You okay?”

 

Buffy looked guilty for a moment. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

Spike gave her a dirty look. “Give me some credit, pet. He might not have been your boyfriend anymore, but you still had feelings for him.”

 

There was a long pause. “We were friends. When Riley came back to Sunnydale, we made peace, you know?”

 

“Even though he came with a perfect wife in tow?” Spike asked.

 

“Yeah, even though.” Buffy smiled ruefully. “I guess he wasn’t quite as into me as he claimed.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Easy come, easy go. Could be that Captain Cardboard just falls in and out of love real easy.”

 

Buffy opened her mouth to object, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s it.”

 

“Did you think he was Mr. Right, Buffy?” Spike had no idea why he was asking the question, but he needed to know. He needed to know if he’d hurt her, if he’d irreparably damaged their relationship.

 

Buffy leaned back into the couch cushions. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

 

“You don’t have to answer.”

 

“No, it’s okay.” Buffy took a deep breath. “I think I had this idea of Riley as Mr. Right, but—we didn’t really know each other. He fell in love with an ideal, I think, and so did I.” She looked at him, memories shadowing her eyes. “What about you and Drusilla?”

 

It seemed to be an evening to rehash old memories, and to talk about subjects that had always been taboo before. “S’pose I did think she was the only one for me for a long time, but she was never mine.” He met her eyes. “She was always Angel’s.”

 

“I’m not Angel’s, and I’m not Riley’s.” Buffy got up and stood in front of him. “I’m as much at fault as you are. This was my idea—to come back here. If we hadn’t, Riley would be in Nepal, or Belize, or somewhere.”

 

“At least until the world ended,” Spike pointed out.

 

Buffy winced. “Yeah. Until then.”

 

“We knew things could change,” Spike reminded her. “Should have figured that it might not change for the better. I’m sorry for what happened, Buffy, but—”

 

“It’s easier this way,” Buffy admitted.

 

Spike took a deep breath. “Has Rupert said anything more about it?”

 

“Just to ask if I’d heard anything on campus. Professor Walsh made the announcement that Riley was killed in a car accident, but that was it. She said that they were shipping his body home to his parents, and that they were going to hold the funeral in Iowa.”

 

“Guess we couldn’t expect anything different.” Spike rubbed his forehead. “’Least they don’t know about us. It’s better that way.”

 

Buffy grabbed his hand. “Where’s your ring?”

 

“Took it off,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure I could get drunk with it on.”

 

She ran her hand down his face. “How much have you drunk?”

 

“A lot,” he admitted.

 

“No more.” She straddled his lap. “Unless you want to drink together?”

 

“If you want.” Spike’s hands came up to grip her waist. “What are we doing, Buffy?”

 

“Making up for lost time.” Buffy’s lips found his. “We’ve lost too much time already. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

 

Spike pulled her in closer. “Shouldn’t have let you.”

 

“What happened to the pushy guy I knew?” she asked.

 

“He pushed too far.”

 

Buffy stilled, meeting his eyes. “Are we okay?”

 

“We’re going to be.”

 

“Good.” She gave him a hard kiss on the lips. “What do you want for Christmas?”

 

~~~~~

 

Christmas was always a difficult time, ever since the divorce. Even after things had gotten bad, the arguments had been put on hold for the holidays. It had all been a masquerade, of course, but the brief reprieve had always given her hope that things could be good again.

 

Until it became obvious that there were some things in life that just couldn’t be fixed with hard work and a good attitude.

 

This year felt different, however. After what Buffy had told her about the future, Joyce felt that every day was precious. Perhaps she would have more than just another year or two with her daughter, but what if she didn’t? She didn’t want to regret anything about her remaining time, and that included going full speed ahead for the holidays.

 

Joyce had asked Buffy to invite Spike, and then she’d realized that Mr. Giles probably didn’t have anywhere to go either. From there, it had been easy for her to issue invitations to Buffy’s friends, at least for Christmas Eve.

 

Christmas morning was for family—although this year that would include Spike.

 

“Why are you doing this, Mom?”

 

Joyce paused as she hung a glass icicle on the Christmas tree. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, why have the whole gang over for Christmas? You never did before.” Buffy was turning a handmade ornament over in her hands, one she’d constructed in preschool that Joyce had always loved.

 

“Didn’t I?” Joyce asked carefully, remembering what Spike had said, about Buffy not being able to handle losing her again.

 

“Just—just that last year.” Buffy swallowed hard, then chose a branch for the ornament and turned to the other boxes. “But not this year.”

 

Joyce took a deep breath. “We don’t know what tomorrow holds, Buffy. Even though you do have some knowledge of the future, it isn’t perfect. I don’t want any regrets, and I knew it would make you happy to have everyone here.” She looked around the living room. Most of the decorations were already up, and it was bright and cheery.

 

She had always loved Christmas.

 

“It does,” Buffy assured her. “I just…” She trailed off, going over to sit down in the rocker. “I didn’t think it was going to be easy, you know? Things are never easy. But I never believed that it would be this hard.”

 

Joyce looked at her daughter. When she thought back to a few years ago, before she’d known about Buffy being the Slayer, she couldn’t help but wonder how she’d remained so oblivious. Not that she ever would have guessed that Buffy was slaying vampires and demons in her spare time, but Joyce thought that she should have known there was more to Buffy’s apparent delinquency.

 

Perhaps she’d been blinded by her own memories of being a teenager, remembering it as a time for rebellion. Perhaps she simply hadn’t wanted to know.

 

“It’s cliché, but nothing worth doing is ever easy.” Joyce smiled apologetically, knowing that her words could do little to soothe.

 

“Sayings become clichés for a reason, right?” Buffy sighed. “I just wish I knew if we did the right thing, or if we’re making it worse.”

 

Joyce gave her daughter a long hug. “I know you’ll manage it, sweetheart. You’re very good at what you do, and so is Spike.” She pulled back to look Buffy in the eye. “How are you and Spike? Are you going to be uncomfortable with him here?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “We’re good, Mom. We still have a lot to work through, but we’re going to make it.”

 

“I don’t doubt it.” The doorbell rang, and Buffy went to let Spike in. The others weren’t supposed to arrive for some time, but Spike had offered to come over early to help. Joyce appreciated his offer, and she certainly didn’t mind his presence.

 

It felt like Spike was one of the family these days.


	18. Demon Hunters

Xander had appreciated Joyce’s invitation for Christmas Eve, since it gave him a chance to get away from his drunken relatives. He’d convinced Anya that it would be better to go back to her tiny apartment, rather than to his relatively spacious basement room.

 

He had finally been able to corner Buffy and ask about his relationship with Anya, and where it was headed. Buffy had made him promise that he wouldn’t blame her for anything that happened, or for any changes that might occur.

 

Once he’d done that, Buffy had given him the basics, finishing by saying, “If you ask her to marry you, go through with it, Xander—or don’t ask.”

 

Those words kept ringing in his head. Xander was a long way from even _thinking_ about the possibility of marriage; he’d been trying to figure out how to get a girl to look at him twice not that long ago. Now, Buffy had told him that Anya was the one—or that he had thought of her that way at some point.

 

“What happened?” Xander had asked.

 

“A demon showed you a fake vision of the future,” Buffy explained. “You freaked out and ran. I wouldn’t suggest doing that again.”

 

Xander shook his head. “But when I found out—”

 

“It didn’t matter, Xan,” Buffy had said, sighing. “I don’t know what was going through your head. No one was talking to each other at the time.”

 

That had been as much as she could tell him. Buffy’s vague description of that year reinforced Xander’s belief that she’d gone through hell.

 

It made him wonder what Spike’s role in everything had been, but seeing their relationship now, he thought that Spike might have given her something that she’d needed. It almost made him like the vampire. Almost.

 

Buffy’s vision of the future had given him a lot to think about, though. As far as Xander could tell, she wasn’t going to be able to do it on her own. She could control her own actions, but not anyone else’s, and that’s where problems seemed to crop up.

 

How he could help, though—that’s what he didn’t know.

 

“An?” he asked.

 

She rolled over and cuddled up to his side. “Yeah?”

 

They were back in his basement now, with his parents alternating between pretending not to know what was going on, and being too drunk to care. Xander pulled her closer. “What do you know about time travel?”

 

She frowned. “Why?”

 

“You know a lot,” Xander said patiently. “And you’ve been around for centuries. I thought that if anybody knew anything, it would be you.”

 

There was a long silence, and a note of wonder in her voice when she finally spoke. “I know that no one’s ever been successful before.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Well, either they wish to go back in time, and everything happens exactly the way it did before, or everything is changed—and not for the better.”

 

That wasn’t good news. “Has it ever worked?”

 

“That I know of?” She considered for a moment. “No, but I wouldn’t, would I? Not unless I’d granted the wish, anyway. If someone else was successful, and things were better, I would imagine that only that one person would know. The rest of the world would just go merrily along.”

 

Xander had to acknowledge the truth of that statement. “I guess so.”

 

“What’s this about?” Anya propped herself up on one elbow, looking into his eyes.

 

It struck Xander then, how beautiful she was. She embarrassed and confused him on a regular basis, but he just couldn’t get enough of her. For just one brief moment, he could see the woman he might marry, and Xander knew that he would do anything for her.

 

At that moment, Xander understood why he might have left her. He loved her enough to let her go, too. But not now. Now, they had all the time in the world to make the right decisions.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” Xander finally said. “About what’s coming. I figure that we’ve got a second chance, too, and maybe we don’t know for sure what’s ahead, but I want to do things right.”

 

He couldn’t say that he wanted to be a better friend, a better boyfriend—a better human being. The words wouldn’t come. That’s what he wanted, though.

 

Maybe, just maybe, he could make a difference for the better.

 

Anya smiled at him, looking a little confused, but willing to play along. “I would much rather do things right the first time. Having to go back and fix things doesn’t give you many guarantees.”

 

“No, it doesn’t.” Xander kissed her, losing himself in her taste, but reminding himself to have a word with Buffy. She and Spike had been acting alone for the most part. It might be time for them to have some help.

 

~~~~~

 

“How are things, Tara?”

 

Tara glanced up, shading her eyes from the bright sun, surprised to see Spike standing next to her table. She’d seen him once during the Christmas break, when Willow had invited her to go out with them. Even though she’d been nervous, and hadn’t really wanted to go, Tara had felt obligated. Spike and Buffy had saved her life, and she hadn’t thanked them.

 

The evening had been much less awkward than Tara had expected, if only because Spike and Buffy had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome. Tara got the sense that they were both incredibly weary. Her intuition told her that they had been fighting for a very long time, and had seen more, and done more, than most people did over an entire lifetime.

 

Tara realized that she hadn’t yet responded, and she blushed. “F-f-fine.”

 

Spike sprawled on the bench next to her, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. “I don’t make you nervous, do I?”

 

He should have by all rights. Spike _was_ a vampire, and Tara sensed that he could be very dangerous when he wanted to be, but he didn’t frighten her. “N-no.” She took a deep breath, reminding herself to slow down when she spoke. That always seemed to help her not to stutter. “How are you?”

 

“Good. Waiting for Buffy to get done with a class, and I spotted you. Thought I’d say hello.” He fumbled in his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and lighter.

 

Tara sensed that he was a little nervous himself, and she wondered why. “I-is everything okay?”

 

“Yeah, ‘course.” Spike smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “There’s a lot going on is all.”

 

Tara didn’t think that was it, but she didn’t want to pry. She didn’t know Spike well enough for that yet. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Go on,” he said, tilting his head and removing his sunglasses to fix her with a piercing look.

 

“How do you know me?” Tara paused, then added. “You and Buffy.”

 

Of course, her biggest clue that something odd was going on had been Spike’s words the first time she’d run into him. But there had also been something about Buffy’s manner the night they’d gone to the Bronze that had suggested to Tara that it wasn’t just Spike who had special knowledge. Buffy had acted more like a woman seeing a long-lost friend again, and not someone meeting the friend of a friend.

 

The expression on Spike’s face was uncertain. “Hard to explain, really.” Tara waited, wondering if he’d try. “There was a problem that came up, sometime in the future,” Spike finally said. “The only way to prevent the world from going to hell—literally—was to come back and fix things.” He met her eyes forthrightly. “We both already know you, so to speak.”

 

“Oh.” Tara frowned, thinking about that. “Will you not tell me anything about the future?”

 

Spike looked puzzled. “Really? Everybody else has wanted to know.”

 

Tara smiled shyly. “It’s better not to know, I think. Haven’t you already changed things?” When he nodded, she explained, “Then knowing wouldn’t do any good.”

 

“You’re something else, you know that?” Spike said it with a laugh that told Tara it was a compliment. “Buffy’s gonna be out of class soon. I should get going.”

 

Tara nodded. “O-o-okay.”

 

“See you soon?”

 

He made it a question, and she nodded. “Probably.”

 

Tara watched him go, thinking that his aura seemed clouded, where it had been bright the first day they’d met. Something had hurt him deeply, right down to his soul, and she wondered what it had been.

 

She was still wondering hours later when she met Willow to study. While they didn’t share the same classes, Tara had found that it was nice to be able to sit with someone else, to know that she wasn’t alone. It made a difference.

 

Willow seemed to be distracted, however, continuing to stare off into space, rather than reading the textbook opened in front of her.

 

“Is something wrong?” Tara finally asked.

 

Willow hesitated, then reached into her bag and pulled out a battered envelope. “Oz wrote me again.”

 

Tara had heard all about Oz, and she’d found the story fascinating. A werewolf going off to control the monster within? If it worked, she wanted to know how—just in case what her father said about her was true. “What did he say?”

 

“He’s making progress, and he thinks he’ll probably start heading back in about a month or so.” Willow looked up, her eyes wide and uncertain. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

Tara frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“I wanted to try and work things out,” Willow admitted. “Even after what happened, I wanted to give him a chance. It’s just that now I don’t know if it will work. Giles wants me to get training this summer, and I might have to leave Sunnydale. How will that work?”

 

“Maybe he’ll go with you,” Tara suggested, trying not to think about how lonely she’d be without Willow around. Then she remembered Spike and Buffy, and thought that perhaps she wouldn’t be quite as alone.

 

“Maybe.” Willow tucked the letter back into her bag. “What about you? Any boys you like?”

 

Tara blushed. They hadn’t talked much about guys, nor had they done the guy-watching that so many girls her own age engaged in. Willow, of course, had her mind on Oz, and didn’t seem to show much interest in anyone else. Tara had her own reasons and hadn’t minded the reprieve.

 

Not that she was ashamed of her sexuality, but the conversation occasionally grew strained, depending on how open-minded the other person was.

 

“No, no boys,” she replied, putting a slight emphasis on the final word.

 

Willow frowned, and then her eyes went wide. “Oh! Oh, okay. That’s—that’s cool. That you like girls, I mean. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

 

Tara hid a rueful smile. Her father would have argued the point, but she knew that Willow was trying to put her at ease. “It’s fine.”

 

“Are there any girls you like?” Willow asked gamely.

 

Tara shook her head. “Not really.”

 

But there was one she might have liked if she hadn’t known it would be futile.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles grabbed onto his kitchen counter as the room began to shake. No matter how long he lived in California, he didn’t think he’d ever get used to earthquakes, even when he’d been warned it was coming.

 

Buffy had told him that they could expect the next apocalypse soon, and that she and Spike would take care of the demons responsible.

 

Giles was a little worried about his Slayer. Riley’s death had shaken her; he’d been able to see that much when she’d told him about it. She had assured him that she was fine—that Spike was fine—but he had his doubts. Buffy had always taken the deaths of innocents to heart, and he had a feeling that whatever kind of threat the Initiative posed to Spike, Buffy had always thought of Riley as an innocent.

 

He was looking through his books for information on the Vahrall demons, when he heard a quick knock on his door, quickly followed by Spike’s entrance. “Buffy wanted me to check on you,” he said in response to Giles’ questioning look. “She’s going by the gallery to check on her mum.”

 

“Did she know that the earthquake would hit today?” Giles asked, surprised that he hadn’t gotten a phone call. Buffy had said that she knew it was coming, but not that she knew the exact date.

 

Spike shook his head. “No, we didn’t. Well, as long as you’re all right—”

 

“Wait a moment, Spike. I’d like to talk to you.” Giles waited until Spike had taken a seat on the couch, then got up to pour them both a drink.

 

Spike looked at the proffered glass wryly. “This something you gotta get me drunk for?”

 

“I thought you might like something to drink.”

 

He took the drink and tossed it back in one smooth motion. “Thanks.”

 

“I wanted to discuss the Initiative with you.” Giles watched as Spike tensed, almost imperceptibly, then relaxed. “Particularly what happened with Riley.”

 

Spike frowned. “It was an accident.”

 

“I believe you,” Giles assured him. “Buffy was the one to explain what happened, however. I haven’t heard much from you.”

 

“Not much to tell. Threw the demon across the room, and it knocked the wanker over and broke his neck.”

 

“He shot at you first?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“I assume he recognized you when the Initiative soldiers caught you on campus,” Giles said.

 

Spike shrugged. “That would be my guess. Didn’t see their faces, so I can’t be sure.”

 

“And how are you doing?”

 

Spike shrugged. “It was an accident, Watcher. Dunno what else I could have done.”

 

But Spike had thought about it, Giles could tell. The vampire had gone over and over it in his mind, wondering if he _could_ have done something different. Giles had done the same thing himself, and he recognized the look in Spike’s eyes.

 

“I’m sure you did everything that you could,” Giles said, deciding that there was no point in pressing Spike further. “Have you seen any of the other soldiers?”

 

“No, but I haven’t gone near campus after dark, either,” Spike replied. “We thought it would be best.”

 

Giles nodded his agreement. “Of course. And this newest threat?”

 

“Buffy said the demon would hit a party tonight, go for blood. Tomorrow, it’ll be the bones of a child, and then your Word of Valios. With any luck, we’ll kill them before they’ve got a chance to collect any of it.”

 

“I doubt you’ll need luck,” Giles responded.

 

Spike shook his head. “Hard to say, really. We thought we knew what to expect, but everything is different now.”

 

Spike rose to leave, and Giles followed him to the door. “From what Buffy’s told me of the future, even those changes that might be perceived as negative may turn out for the best. It’s impossible to tell.”

 

“That’s the problem,” Spike replied wryly. “It _is_ impossible to tell.”

 

Giles winced in sympathy as he watched Spike leave, wishing that he had the answers.

 

~~~~~

 

“I don’t like it.”

 

“You don’t have to like it.” Buffy looked at her boyfriend in exasperation. “All you have to do is stay away from campus.”

 

“I remember these guys,” Spike protested. “They’re strong, fast, and sneaky. You can’t expect to handle them alone.”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Okay, do you not remember where I’m going? The party is on campus. Where the soldiers live?”

 

Spike frowned, coming very close to pouting. “At least let me stay nearby.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Spike, I don’t want to risk you.”

 

“They won’t see me.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“They’re probably going to be too busy partying to notice one vamp hanging about in case of trouble,” Spike argued. “You need to take backup, Buffy.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Look, we don’t know exactly when the other demon is going to hit the child’s crypt. I think it would be better if you kept a lookout there, while I check out the party.”

 

“Take somebody with you,” Spike urged.

 

“I’ll take Willow,” Buffy conceded.

 

Spike looked disgruntled. “Fine. Not that she’ll do you much good.”

 

“Spike—”

 

“What?”

 

“She’s a witch. She could help.” Buffy sighed. “Haven’t you forgiven her yet?”

 

Spike raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Have you?”

 

Buffy flopped down on his couch. “Mostly. I mean, I know she didn’t mean to do what she did, but—”

 

“She’s done it before?” Spike suggested. “She’ll likely do it again? When she gets like this, Willow only considers what she wants, and nothing else? Take your pick.”

 

Buffy sighed. “Fine. No, I haven’t really forgiven her. I don’t know if I ever really will. Maybe when I know that she won’t make the same choice, given another chance, it’ll be easier.”

 

His expression was compassionate. “You haven’t forgiven her for the resurrection.”

 

Buffy swallowed. “I did forgive her. I just haven’t forgiven her for this one yet.”

 

Spike touched her cheek. “We’re okay, luv.”

 

“I don’t care,” Buffy replied stubbornly. “We weren’t okay for a while, and I still remember how that feels. I’m not completely over it, but I’m willing to try to move on.”

 

Spike nodded. “That’s about how I feel,” he admitted. “Look, be careful tonight, huh? No heroics.”

 

“I’m a hero, Spike. Heroics are my job.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” He gave her a hard kiss.

 

Buffy pulled him in for a second one. “You be careful, too. I want you in one piece.”

 

“You got it.” He showed her out the door, then headed to the cemetery where the crypt was located. Buffy headed towards campus and Porter Hall, where the party was. It probably would have been easier to meet at her dorm room, but Buffy didn’t want Spike anywhere near campus after dark until the thing with the Initiative was over with.

 

Riley’s reaction to Spike demonstrated that at least a few of the soldiers knew him by sight, and Buffy didn’t want to chance running into any who would recognize him.

 

Willow was waiting for her just inside the door of the house. “There you are!”

 

“Sorry I’m late. I had to convince Spike to stay behind.”

 

“Didn’t agree easily, did he?”

 

“No, not really.” Buffy looked around at those present. “Any sign of the demon?”

 

Willow shook her head. “Percy’s here, though.” She made a face. “He called me a geek.”

 

At moments like that, Buffy forgot to be angry at Willow. She snorted. “What does he know? If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t even _be_ in college.”

 

She brightened at that. “True. Where are we looking for this demon?”

 

Buffy frowned, trying to remember what Willow had told her about finding the body. “Upstairs, I think.”

 

Weaving their way through the crowded room, the two girls made their way towards the stairs. “Buffy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I got a letter from Oz yesterday.”

 

Buffy frowned. Willow didn’t sound very happy about that fact, although she no longer knew what to expect from the other girl where Oz was concerned. Last time, when Willow got a postcard, she’d been more upset than reassured. “What did he say?”

 

“He’s probably coming back in a month or so.”

 

Willow tugged at her shirt, as if to straighten it, and Buffy easily interpreted the gesture. “You don’t know how you feel about it?”

 

“Pretty much.” Willow’s eyes met hers. “Can I forgive him?”

 

“I don’t think I can answer that question for you, Will.” Buffy opened the first door she came to, looking for the demon. If it had already shown up, it could be anywhere. She quickly shut the door of the first room, however, thinking that it might be better to knock first.

 

Willow sighed. “I know. I guess I’ll just have to figure it out when Oz gets back.”

 

Buffy didn’t mind listening, but she was trying to concentrate. She wanted to find the demon before he had the chance to kill someone. She heard a strangled gasp, and Buffy sprinted towards the sound.

 

She burst through the door, seeing the demon standing over a young man her own age, just beginning to carve his chest open. “Hey!”

 

The Vahrall demon looked up, snarling at her. Buffy sprang at him, knocking both the knife and cup out of his hands. “Willow! Call the ambulance!” she shouted.

 

Willow nodded from the doorway and dashed out, presumably to find a phone.

 

Buffy grappled with the demon. The tight quarters didn’t give her much room to move, and she wanted to prevent any more harm from coming to the injured boy. When she finally got a good grip on him, Buffy threw him towards the window, sending him crashing through the glass.

 

She didn’t hesitate, knowing that if the demon weren’t dead, it would kill someone else for the blood needed to complete the ritual. Covering her face with her arm to protect herself from any stray shards of glass, Buffy leapt out the window.

 

Buffy rolled to absorb the impact, scrambling to her feet and looking around her with wide eyes.

 

The demon was nowhere to be seen, but she was surrounded by black-clad soldiers.


	19. Narrow Escapes

Spike was bored. Really bored. There had been no sign of the Vahrall demon at the crypt, and he was beginning to think that it was going to be a quiet night. He lit another cigarette and took a long drag, feeling the smoke fill up his undead lungs.

 

At least he and Buffy were actually talking again. Granted, things could have been better, but they could have been worse, too. She could have cut him off completely, or broken off the relationship. She’d done it before.

 

Spike flicked his ash into the grass at his feet, and then froze. Someone was nearby, and he didn’t recognize the scent. With a practiced motion, he got rid of his cigarette, then began to stroll through the cemetery, away from the crypt he was supposed to be watching.

 

Although the soldiers couldn’t hurt him as long as he had the ring, Spike wasn’t going to be a sitting duck—and he wasn’t about to let the next batch off with only a few bruises. He had a feeling that if he sent enough of them to the hospital without killing them, they might leave him alone.

 

And if not, Spike knew he could always start sending the soldiers to the morgue.

 

“Spike!”

 

He froze. Spike could still sense the presence of an unfamiliar human, but Xander was running towards him at full speed. “Something wrong, Harris?”

 

“It’s Buffy,” Xander gasped. “Willow called me from the hospital and told me where you’d be.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“She was attacked at the school by a bunch of guys. Willow said she thought they were soldiers, but—”

 

Spike cut him off. He didn’t know who was lingering in the darkness, but there was no point in spilling all their secrets. “Let’s go. The car isn’t too far away.”

 

Xander stuck close to his side, throwing furtive glances at him. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked in a whisper.

 

“Think we’re being followed,” Spike murmured.

 

He was a little surprised at Xander’s almost-friendly demeanor. It might simply be because he was worried about Buffy, enough to set aside their differences, but Spike sensed that there was more to it.

 

If he wasn’t mistaken, however, Spike thought that the boy might have been softening towards him at the end, before Willow had done the spell to send them back in time. After all, Harris had given him a place to stay, and while Spike couldn’t say that he’d been kind, he _had_ been civil.

 

Once they were inside the car, and on the way to the hospital, Spike asked, “What did Red say?”

 

“They were at the party, and they found the guy that the demon was supposed to kill. I guess Buffy interrupted it in the act and tossed it out the window. She followed it, and was immediately surrounded by the soldiers.” Xander took a deep breath. “Will said she doesn’t know exactly what happened, but after she’d called 911, she looked out the window to see the soldiers standing over Buffy.”

 

“And?” Spike asked impatiently. “What did she do?”

 

“Will said she yelled at them, then did some kind of quick light spell that blinded them. By then, Willow heard the ambulance arriving, and she shouted attempted rape from the window. The soldiers took off, and the paramedics took both Buffy and the kid to the hospital.” Xander was just now getting his breath back. “She said to get you.”

 

Spike stifled his rage. He had no idea why the soldiers would attack Buffy, who appeared to be as human as anyone, but he planned on finding out.

 

For the first time, he felt real regret over Riley’s death—not because he’d taken a life, but because the man might have been persuaded to help them from the inside. The last time Riley’s feelings for Buffy had led to his decision, but he might have done the same thing for the right reasons.

 

Pulling up in front of the hospital, Spike cut the engine and climbed out, Xander at his heels. “Did Red say where they were?” he called over his shoulder.

 

“Just that they’d brought her here,” Xander replied.

 

Spike strode through the automatic doors, looking around for any sign of the Slayer.

 

“Spike!” Willow stood in the waiting room, having hopped up from the stiff plastic chair.

 

“Where is she?”

 

The witch shook her head mutely. “I don’t know. They said something about a stun gun, and that her arm was hurt, but—”

 

Spike held up a hand, stopping the flow of words. He could just catch Buffy’s voice, and she sounded seriously pissed off. “Be right back,” he promised.

 

Following the sound of Buffy’s voice, Spike moved down the hallway, finding her in a room, surrounded by a doctor, a police officer, and a nurse. She caught sight of him immediately, and he saw that she had a large bruise on her left cheek, and her right arm was in a cast. “Spike!”

 

He could hear the relief in her voice. “Harris found me,” he said, moving towards the bed, and finding the officer in the way. “What—”

 

“It’s okay,” Buffy said. “That’s my boyfriend. Please.”

 

“We just need to know what happened, Miss Summers,” the officer said, sounding exasperated. “Your friend claimed it was an attempted rape.”

 

With the cop’s attention back on Buffy, Spike made his way to her side, reaching immediately for her hand. “I don’t know what they wanted,” Buffy said, sounding tired. “They just attacked me out of nowhere. They had masks on, and I tried to hold them off, but one of them stunned me.”

 

The officer didn’t look happy with her description of events. Spike was ready to light into him for not believing her, but the man’s next words pacified him. “I’m sorry, Miss Summers, but that’s not a lot to go on. I can speak with campus security and have them increase patrols. That’s about it without more information.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said. “I wish I could—”

 

The man shook his head. “Don’t apologize, Miss Summers. This certainly wasn’t your fault. Please call us if you remember anything else.”

 

“I want to keep you overnight,” the doctor said as soon as the officer had gone.

 

Buffy shook her head emphatically. “I’m not staying.”

 

“Miss Summers—”

 

“No.” There was steel in her tone, and Spike recognized the expression on her face. It was the one he could never say no to. “I’m okay, and I’m going home.”

 

“I’ll take her to her mother’s house,” Spike inserted smoothly. “She won’t be left alone, doctor.”

 

The doctor sighed, looking frustrated. “I can’t keep you here, but you’re leaving against medical advice.”

 

Buffy gave him a sweet smile. “Thanks.”

 

“I’ll get the paperwork,” the man muttered.

 

“What happened?” Spike asked, as soon as they’d been left alone. “Harris said you’d been hurt, and that the soldiers had attacked you, but—”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I was chasing the demon, and as soon as I went through the window, they were just _there_.” Her face went blank with memories. “I don’t know what they wanted, Spike. They attacked without warning. One of them managed a good hit on my arm, and that distracted me enough that another got me with a taser. If Willow hadn’t—”

 

Spike stopped her words with a kiss, trying to reassure her as best he could. “They couldn’t keep you, luv.”

 

Whatever Buffy might have said was cut off by the doctor’s re-entrance. She awkwardly signed where he told her to, and then he handed her a script. “For the pain,” he said. “You’ll need to come back in a couple of weeks to have your arm looked at again.”

 

Buffy gave him a hopeful smile. “You know, I heal really fast, so I could come back before that.”

 

“Two weeks,” the doctor replied sternly. “And be sure she rests.” The last command was directed at Spike.

 

“Of course.” Spike waited until they were alone again before asking, “You okay?”

 

“I just want to go home,” she replied wearily.

 

“You got it.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Are you okay?” Willow asked as soon as Buffy came out into the waiting room.

 

Buffy nodded. “I’m fine, Will. Thank you.” She gave her friend a one-armed hug. “You did great tonight.”

 

“I’m glad you’re all right.” Her eyes were still worried. “Do you think they’ll come after you again?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted.

 

Xander frowned. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right? Maybe you shouldn’t go back to campus right away.”

 

“She’s going to her mum’s house tonight,” Spike interrupted. “And she needs her rest. We’ll see you lot tomorrow.”

 

Buffy would have preferred to go back to Spike’s apartment, but he was insistent. She had a feeling that he didn’t want to risk the soldiers coming after her again. While she hated to worry her mother, Spike was not to be dissuaded.

 

“You could use some looking after,” he said stubbornly.

 

Buffy eyed him. “You’re going out looking for them, aren’t you? Because otherwise, you could look after me.”

 

“No, I just think your mum could do a better job of it.” He pulled up into her driveway and gave her a serious look. “I also want you off campus until we figure out why they attacked you.”

 

“Spike!” Buffy immediately protested. “I have to go to classes.”

 

“And you will, but I don’t want you there alone.” He sighed. “Actually, I was going to see if I could hunt up those demons. You’re in no shape to be doing it.”

 

She couldn’t dispute that. Although the cast might make a good weapon once the bone was healed, but until then, Buffy knew she’d have to be careful. “Okay. Just—”

 

“Be careful,” Spike finished for her. “You’ll tell Joyce hello for me?”

 

“Yep. See you tomorrow?”

 

“Couldn’t keep me away.”

 

Buffy was hoping to sneak inside and into her bed without waking her mom up, but Joyce was waiting for her at the door. “Mom.”

 

“Oh, Buffy.” Joyce put an arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Buffy assured her. “Just a little bruised. How’d you know?”

 

“I heard Spike’s car in the driveway. I knew he wouldn’t be here unless there was a problem.”

 

Buffy winced. Her mom was right; if she’d been planning on staying the night, she would have at least called first. “I just had a run-in with some guys. It’s not a big deal.”

 

Joyce tapped her finger on Buffy’s new cast. “ _That_ does not look like ‘it’s not a big deal.’”

 

Buffy decided that telling her that it could be worse, she could be getting experimented on in an Initiative lab, was probably not a good idea. “I’ll be fine. I’m really tired, though. The pills the doctor gave me for the pain are making me sleepy.”

 

“You should go to bed,” Joyce agreed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“Good night, Mom.” As Buffy gave her mom a goodnight hug, she reflected that Spike had been right to insist she go home. There was no one you wanted more when you were sick or injured than your mom.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike knew that they needed information. For his own peace of mind, he needed to know why the Initiative soldiers had targeted Buffy. Was there something about her that hadn’t registered as human on whatever demon-detecting equipment they had been using? Had they mistaken her for a demon since she’d been chasing one? Would they attempt to capture or kill her again?

 

As far as he knew, there was no way to get the answers to those questions without asking one of the soldiers who had been there. Unfortunately, Spike didn’t know who they’d been. He might be able to capture one and get what information he could, but that would open up another can of worms.

 

Specifically, what he would do with the soldier once he was done questioning him. Spike wouldn’t be able to leave him alive, but he didn’t think killing him was an option.

 

He went back to the campus, to the area where Buffy had been attacked. Spike knew that she’d gone to Porter Hall, and he found the building easily enough. There was glass on the ground under the broken window, and he could see where the grass had been trampled by a number of heavy feet.

 

Spike took a deep breath, trying to catch a distinct scent. There wasn’t much to go on, but he thought he could just smell a hint of the Vahrall demon; they had a unique, pungent odor. He followed the faint trace, having little hope that his search would be successful, but not knowing what else to do.

 

To his pleased surprise, the smell grew stronger, and Spike began to jog, staying as silent as possible. The woods around the campus were thick, but he’d been a predator for a very long time. Keeping quiet came naturally.

 

Even though it usually bored him to tears.

 

Spike slowed as he neared a clearing, and he froze as he saw not only his quarry, but the other two demons. He cursed silently. Even with the Gem of Amara, Spike didn’t particularly want to take on all three of them at once. Buffy was out of commission for at least the next week, and he knew that this was his best chance at stopping the apocalypse without anyone else getting hurt, however.

 

After all, he only had to kill one of them.

 

He hoped.

 

Spike hadn’t survived as long as he had by being overly cautious. He’d made it by taking calculated risks that brought big pay offs. If he’d wanted to play it safe, he never would have confronted the Slayers he had, and look where that had brought him.

 

With a roar that he hoped would startle the demons, Spike leapt into the clearing, attacking the demon closest to him. Unfortunately, the other demons recovered quickly, and they both jumped Spike at the same time. He brought out the demon, ducking under one fist to come up under another, catching it in a very delicate area.

 

The demon roared, and Spike used its distraction to his advantage, rolling away from the melee. When the demons separated, he kipped to his feet, taking a running start to head butt another demon in the stomach. When it doubled over, Spike grabbed its head and twisted viciously, the extra strength that the ring lent him allowing him to snap its neck.

 

The other two screamed angrily and attacked him at once. He ran for the nearest tree, leaping for a low-hanging branch. Spike needed a weapon, and wood was the only material available.

 

Tearing a thick branch from the trunk, Spike swung it like a bat, hitting one of the demons in the head. There was a wet crack, and its body collapsed. Spike didn’t know if it was dead, but at least it was down. He could finish it off at his convenience later.

 

First, he had to take care of the third demon, who didn’t seem to be interested in letting him go. Spike grinned maniacally; he hadn’t been in a fight this serious since getting the soul, and it felt damn good.

 

With only one opponent, Spike took his time—fists and fangs, and sod all else. It was a brutal show down, but in the end, there was only one demon standing.

 

Spike looked down at the ring on his finger, not knowing whether to be thankful he’d had the protection, or disappointed that the fight had been fixed from the start.

 

He was just getting ready to put the injured demon out of its misery when he heard the crack of a broken branch. Spike didn’t hesitate; he didn’t know what was coming, but he wanted to get a good look at them before he was seen.

 

A group of three soldiers came tramping through the brush, stopping cold when they saw the bodies of the three demons. “What the hell could have done this?”

 

“Could have been related to the girl we saw earlier.” The soldier pulled his mask off, and Spike recognized him as one of Riley’s best mates from before, although he had no idea of the bloke’s name. Spike tried to memorize his features—dark skin, tall, shaved head. Buffy might know who he was if he could give her a decent description.

 

“I still don’t think she had anything to do with the demon.” A second soldier pulled off his mask. This one had blond hair, and was stocky in build.

 

“No one flies through a window like that without getting hurt,” the third insisted. He had dark hair and hazel eyes. “Even if she’s not a demon, she definitely wasn’t human.”

 

“You could have gone through the window and been okay,” the second said.

 

“But we’re special,” said the first. “We should let the professor know what happened. She’s not going to be real happy that all we came up with was three dead demons and a mystery.”

 

Spike watched them go, frowning thoughtfully. It appeared as though their attack on Buffy was motivated more by opportunity than anything else. They didn’t know whether or not she was human, and given what they’d seen—and what they knew—the soldiers weren’t going to take any chances.

 

Which meant that until the Initiative was shut down, Buffy needed to ensure that she didn’t give them the opportunity.

 

Spike had a feeling that she wasn’t going to like his suggested solution to the problem.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles stared at Xander, trying to curb his impatience. Although he had a certain fondness for the boy, he was more often irritated with him than not. “What do you need, Xander? I’m rather busy at the moment.”

 

He shuffled his feet. “I wanted to talk to you. Have you seen Buffy?”

 

“I went over to her house earlier today. Joyce insisted that she stay home and rest.” Giles didn’t know how much his Slayer needed the rest, but Buffy seemed to be enjoying her mother’s fussing.

 

Giles had been surprised by that at first, and then he’d remembered that Buffy had lost her mother, and that she was probably in the mood for a little old-fashioned mothering.

 

“Good.” Xander hesitated, then blurted out, “I think we need to do something.”

 

Giles raised his eyebrows. “And what would you suggest that we do, Xander?”

 

“Can I come in?”

 

He stepped aside to allow Xander entrance and waited in silence for him to speak. The boy fidgeted on the couch. “I just—I think we should help Buffy with changing the future.”

 

“I _am_ helping her,” Giles said, unable to soften his tone. He was angry that Xander thought he’d been twiddling his thumbs for the last few months. Giles had been doing as much as he could for Buffy—as much as she’d let him do.

 

Xander slouched on the couch. “I know, but Buffy can’t control a lot of things, including what other people do, right? Well, maybe with more people trying to fix it, we can make more changes.”

 

Giles frowned. “As far as I know, Buffy and Spike have already made significant changes.”

 

“But not where Willow and Oz were concerned,” Xander said.

 

Giles began to understand what Xander was getting at. In the end, from what he understood, Buffy had sacrificed herself for this mysterious sister, and the world, and it had been her friends who had brought her back.

 

Buffy might be able to change events, but only Xander or Willow could change their reactions to the new events, and they were the same people.

 

As he was, and Giles knew that he’d made mistakes, although Buffy hadn’t been terribly explicit.

 

“What would you suggest?”

 

“I don’t know,” Xander admitted. “I’ve just been thinking about it. After that soldier was killed, Buffy was pretty broken up about it, though. If we helped…” He trailed off. “It was a stupid idea.”

 

“No, it wasn’t,” Giles disagreed. “I think you may have a point.”

 

“Really?”

 

Giles didn’t answer; he was too busy sorting through the scattered papers on his desk for the notes he’d taken when Buffy had explained what the future held. While Buffy had given him details on the actual events, she hadn’t said much about what his actions—or inaction—had been, and the same was true for Xander and Willow.

 

He had a feeling that she and Spike had assumed that they would return to the past and take care of things on their own. Had they returned to the point in time that they’d originally intended, that would have made sense. Now, however, there was any number of events that they’d rather not go through again, but they weren’t the only players.

 

“Ah, here they are,” Giles announced, half to himself. “I took notes on what Buffy said we might expect. We may need her to provide more detail, but this gives us a good starting point.” Giles met Xander’s eyes. “What brought this on, Xander?”

 

Xander shrugged. “Just something Buffy told me. I’ve got a second chance now, too. I want to do things the right way.”

 

Giles smiled. “I can certainly understand that.”

 

He thought about how many things he might have done differently, if he’d only had the chance.


	20. Birthday Surprise

“What do you want for your birthday, honey?” Joyce asked.

 

Buffy sighed. She’d been hoping that everyone would forget about her birthday. They’d pretty much skipped right over the last one; no one had had time to celebrate with the First breathing down their necks, and the pressures of training the potentials.

 

In spite of the lack of celebration, that birthday had been about as bad as every other had been.

 

“I really don’t want anything, Mom,” Buffy said.

 

Joyce gave her a look. “Not even a cake?”

 

She shrugged. “I’m still operating under the Buffy-birthday-curse.” Her eyes widened as she remembered what had happened on this particular birthday. While she’d warned Giles against having a drink with Ethan Rayne, it was probably a good idea to reiterate that warning.

 

“What about having everyone over for dinner?” Joyce suggested, clearly unwilling to give up on the idea of Buffy’s birthday party.

 

Buffy knew that she wasn’t going to get out of it. Her mom was going to insist that they do something for her birthday, and a dinner probably didn’t have quite the potential for disaster. “Yeah, okay,” she agreed. “I’ll let everyone know. I need to see Giles today.”

 

“Do you want a ride?” Joyce asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I’m good. I’ll see you later, Mom.”

 

She’d been staying with her mom over the weekend, rather than going back to the dorms. Spike had entered into a conspiracy with Joyce, and with them double-teaming her, Buffy hadn’t really had a choice.

 

On the other hand, after Spike had told her what he’d overheard the soldiers saying, Buffy knew that campus wasn’t the best place for her, particularly after dark.

 

They still hadn’t decided what to do about the Initiative. Buffy knew that they had some time before Adam would escape—if he did this time. Without her involvement in the secret government program, who knew what would happen?

 

Although the sun was warm, the winter air had a bite to it. Her arm itched, and she glared at her cast. Buffy knew what the doctor had said about waiting two weeks, but she was sure that the bone would be healed before then. She hated waiting under any circumstances.

 

Buffy knocked on Giles’ door, then walked inside. “Giles?”

 

“One moment,” he called. “I was just getting cleaned up.”

 

Buffy smirked, shaking her head. Giles and his jogging—something she’d never thought she’d see, and had forgotten she might see it again. She made herself comfortable on his couch, seeing the notes scattered about.

 

She started reading over them, recognizing Giles’ cramped handwriting, and her own words. “I see you found our notes,” Giles observed as he came down the stairs.

 

“Notes?” Buffy asked.

 

“Yes, Xander came over yesterday, wanting to know how he might help you.” Giles sat down next to her on the couch. “I realize that you and Spike believed that this was something you had to do on your own, but that’s not necessary anymore, Buffy. We would like to help you any way that we can.”

 

Buffy blushed. Giles was right. She’d thought that she was alone in this—except for Spike, of course. She’d been alone for so long. Ever since her friends had brought her back from the dead, Buffy had felt isolated from them, and then after the First Evil had appeared, it had only gotten worse. Spike had been the only one she could trust.

 

There were moments when she forgot that this was a different time. The barriers that had sprung up between her and her friends and Watcher weren’t there yet—unless she created them by deliberately shutting them out.

 

“I know, Giles. It’s just—I don’t know what to tell you.”

 

“Why don’t you start by telling me why you came over today?” Giles suggested.

 

“You know how I said that it wasn’t a good idea to have a drink with Ethan Rayne?”

 

Giles nodded. “Yes, I remember you saying something about that.”

 

Buffy gave him a rueful smile. “He’s going to come to you with information, and I would suggest that you beat him up, instead of drinking with him.”

 

“What happened the last time?” Giles asked, curious.

 

“He turned you into a Fyarl demon.” Buffy frowned. “Come to think of it, I don’t know if he slipped something magical in your drink, or did the spell somewhere else.”

 

Giles didn’t like the sound of that. “What happened?”

 

“Spike helped you,” Buffy replied. “He was the only one who spoke Fyarl, and I thought you were trying to kill people, so I nearly killed you.”

 

“It’s nice to know that you didn’t.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “How is your arm?”

 

“It aches a little, but it’s not bad. What do you think, Giles? About the Initiative. Adam is supposed to escape soon, but I don’t know if Professor Walsh will activate him now.”

 

Giles leaned back against the cushions. “Honestly, Buffy, I don’t know. From what you’ve said, the last time, the Initiative essentially destroyed itself, from the inside out.”

 

“Pretty much,” Buffy agreed. “Adam helped it along, but—I can’t let Adam kill a bunch of people this time.”

 

“Understood.” Giles patted her on the shoulder awkwardly. “But, Buffy—even if Adam does kill someone, it wouldn’t be your fault.”

 

“I know.” Buffy understood that, but it didn’t change the gut reaction she had at the thought of anyone dying. She was the Slayer; it was her job to protect people from things that went bump in the night, and when someone died, it was her fault.

 

At least, that’s what it felt like.

 

“Mom said she wants to have a dinner for my birthday,” Buffy told him. “I told her not to bother, but—”

 

“It’s your birthday,” Giles said. “Have you heard from your father this year?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, and I won’t hear from him again.”

 

He frowned. “Even after your mother—”

 

Buffy swallowed, still feeling the sting of his abandonment. “I think he runs off to Spain with his secretary pretty soon. He doesn’t bother coming back.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Giles smiled. “I’d be happy to come to dinner.”

 

“I’ll let you know when we’re having it,” she said. Buffy glanced at the clock. “I should go see Spike. I told him we’d get together today.”

 

Giles raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you call him? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind picking you up.”

 

Buffy gave him a dirty look. “I _can_ walk, Giles. My arm might be broken, but my legs aren’t.”

 

“Pardon me for being concerned for your well being,” he said dryly.

 

Buffy winced. “Mom said pretty much the same thing before I left the house today.”

 

“We’re both concerned for you.” Giles gave her a stern look. “You must take care of yourself, Buffy, and you must let us help.”

 

“Maybe we can talk about it at my party,” Buffy said. “I promise I’ll try to do better about filling you guys in on what’s coming.”

 

“See that you do.”

 

Buffy hugged him impulsively. “Thanks, Giles.”

 

“Of course.” He patted her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

 

Buffy nodded. She’d forgotten how nice it was to have her Watcher in her corner.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow opened the letter impatiently, her heart beating just a little bit faster.

 

“ _Willow,_

_By the time you get this letter, I’ll be on my way back. Depending on how long I can make the money last, you’ll probably see me in a few weeks. I don’t know if you’ve waited for me, or if we can make it work, but I’ve missed you. I have a surprise for you when I get to Sunnydale. Love,_

  1. ”



 

So, that was it. Willow had a few weeks to figure out what she wanted, and then she’d be faced with a decision. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Oz anymore; she just didn’t know if she could forgive him yet.

 

Maybe she wouldn’t know until she saw him again.

 

A knock on the door startled her. She was about to invite her visitor inside, and then remembered that that might not be the best idea, daylight or not. Willow opened the door cautiously, and then smiled at her visitor. “Hey, Tara.”

 

“Hi.” Tara gave her a nervous smile. “I wanted to know if you wanted to get something to eat.”

 

Willow glanced at the clock, realizing that it was nearly dinnertime. “That would be great. You want to go to the cafeteria?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Willow grabbed her student identification card. “Maybe we can get ice cream or something later,” she suggested. “Buffy said something about meeting me off campus.”

 

“Where is Buffy?” Tara asked. “I haven’t seen her for a while again.”

 

Willow made a face. “The soldiers attacked her the other night. She’s staying off campus except for classes, at least for a while.”

 

“You’re here by yourself?” Tara asked.

 

Willow shrugged. “I usually meet up with her somewhere else.”

 

“Is she in danger?”

 

“I think we’re all in danger,” Willow admitted. “Things are changing so fast, I don’t think that Buffy knows what’s coming, and that worries her.”

 

Tara was quiet for a moment. “You know, there is a way.”

 

Willow frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“You could make a scrying bowl,” Tara suggested.

 

Willow stared at her. “You know how to do that?”

 

Tara nodded. “I don’t usually look into the future, but my mom taught me how. She was good at it.”

 

At the expression on Tara’s face, Willow asked, “What did she see?”

 

“Her own death.” Tara took a deep breath. “It haunted her last days, because she knew what would happen to me after she died. She made me promise to leave, and to go to school.”

 

Willow swallowed hard, getting a glimpse into what Tara’s life at home must have been like. “Your dad didn’t want you to go to college?”

 

“He didn’t think it was necessary,” Tara said, her tone of voice telling Willow that she wasn’t going to say more.

 

“We could talk to Spike and Buffy about it tonight,” Willow suggested.

 

Tara nodded unhappily.

 

Willow saw her discontent and was quick to reassure her. “They won’t ask you to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”

 

Tara frowned. “If it helps—”

 

Willow shook her head. “Even if it helps, we might be able to get by without it. They might not need to know what’s coming. We’ve managed before.”

 

“Which is why they had to invoke powerful magicks to come back and fix things.”

 

Willow had to acknowledge that Tara had a very good point.

 

~~~~~

 

“I would have picked you up,” Spike said when he opened the door to admit Buffy.

 

She rolled her eyes in response. “Hello to you, too.”

 

Spike sighed, and then started over, leaning down to give her a long kiss. “How are you?”

 

“I’m fine. Much better than everybody seems to think.” Buffy gave him a concerned look. “How are you? After taking those demons on—”

 

“Ring, remember?” Spike held up his left hand, where the green gem glinted. “I’m right as rain.”

 

“What does that even mean?” she asked. “How is rain right? And why is it more right than anything else?”

 

He chuckled. “No idea. It’s just a saying.”

 

“But it must have gotten to be a saying somehow,” she protested.

 

“Maybe you should ask Willow.” Spike raised an eyebrow. “She’ll know if anybody does.”

 

“Or she knows how to find out,” Buffy agreed. In a quick change of subject, she added, “I’m really hungry.”

 

“Got it covered,” Spike said. “Have a seat.”

 

Buffy did as he asked, frowning as he walked into his kitchen. “Did you cook? I didn’t know you could cook.”

 

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me,” Spike retorted. “Your birthday is coming up, and I seem to remember that it’s not a good day for you.”

 

“That’s the understatement of the century,” she muttered.

 

“So, I figured we’d have our own celebration tonight,” Spike continued as though he hadn’t heard her. He’d called Joyce earlier that day to talk to Buffy, only to find out that she’d already gone to Giles’ place. Joyce had used the opportunity to talk to him about her daughter’s birthday party.

 

Spike hadn’t known what to think about the dinner idea. It was probably as good a plan as any, and there was less chance for disaster that way, but it didn’t give him much of a chance to see Buffy alone.

 

This was, after all, the first birthday of hers where they’d been together, and he felt comfortable openly giving her a gift. Spike was certain that a gift was required this year, and he’d been trying to figure out what to give her.

 

Spike had no idea if she’d like his choice, however, and he wanted to give it to her in private, rather than risk public humiliation when she indicated that he’d made a mistake in front of everyone else.

 

Buffy stared at him. “And you’re cooking dinner for me?”

 

“Yeah, and your mum isn’t expecting you home tonight. Told her you could stay here, and I’d sleep on the couch.”

 

Buffy snorted. “Like she believed _that_.”

 

“Didn’t say she believed it, but it lets the both of us keep up appearances,” Spike said with a smile. “Anyway, I’m taking care of you tonight, so you can just sit back and enjoy it.”

 

A soft smile played around the corners of her lips. “Okay.”

 

Spike went about his dinner preparations, using a recipe that Joyce had recommended. Although his cooking skills were rudimentary at best, she’d assured him that anyone could make the pasta dish. He’d purchased the dessert from a bakery in town, and his bedroom was ready for the after-dessert portion of their evening.

 

“Are you sure I can’t help?” Buffy called. “I burn water, but if you point me at the direction of some vegetables, I could probably chop. I’m good at chopping things.”

 

“Sit.” Spike gave her a stern look. “I already told you. What did you and Giles talk about?”

 

She told him what her Watcher had said about being of more help, and Xander’s offer of assistance. “Do you think we’ve shut them out?”

 

Spike concentrated on finding the right setting on the range top, rather than answering her question. In truth, he wasn’t sure how to answer.

 

“Spike?” Buffy pressed. “Be honest.”

 

He sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know, luv. Your friends have never accepted me.” She opened her mouth to protest, and he held up a hand to stop her. “Not until recently,” he acknowledged. “It’s changed, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t remember. Think you might feel the same.”

 

Buffy nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it. I keep expecting them to disapprove, or tell me how I’m doing things wrong, and they haven’t.” She tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling. “When did that happen, Spike? When did my friends become the people I didn’t trust?”

 

“Do you really need me to answer that question?” he asked softly.

 

“No.” She met his eyes from across the room. “It was pretty much the same time you turned into the person I did trust.”

 

Spike went back to stirring his sauce, not wanting to face her for the next stage of the conversation. He still wondered if he was dreaming sometimes, if this life he found himself in was merely the product of an over-active imagination. “I thought that was the soul.”

 

“No.” Buffy sighed “Do we have to talk about this now?” she asked plaintively. “We’re going to have to go over the next few months in detail at my birthday party, so I’d really like to pretend that the rest of the world doesn’t exist tonight.”

 

Spike smiled at her over his shoulder. “We can do that.”

 

He finished making dinner. The recipe was as easy as Joyce had promised, and Buffy was so appreciative of the effort that went into it that Spike knew that he’d cook for her again.

 

As Buffy dug into the chocolate-raspberry torte he’d purchased, she let out a groan. “You know what would make this dinner perfect?”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“You in an apron.” She grinned at him.

 

Spike glowered. “Very funny.”

 

“I think so,” she said, sounding very satisfied with herself.

 

He shook his head in mock-annoyance, and then began clearing the table.

 

“Get the dishes tomorrow,” she suggested. “There’s no rush tonight.”

 

“No, there isn’t.” Spike left the dishes in the sink and waited until she’d finished her dessert. “Come on.”

 

“Where are we going?” Buffy asked.

 

“The bathroom,” Spike replied.

 

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “What’s in the bathroom?”

 

“Your bath.” Spike reached out for a strand of her hair, wrapping it around his finger. “Figure it’s probably pretty hard to wash your hair with that cast.”

 

“It is, but—”

 

“Let me take care of you tonight,” Spike said softly. “Please.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Spike knew from the expression on her face that Buffy had just put herself completely in his hands. He could see the absolute trust in her eyes, and it humbled him. The fact that they could trust one another, after everything that had happened, was miraculous.

 

He undressed her with care, his touch almost chaste. Buffy ran her good hand down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt as she went. “You’re so beautiful.”

 

“Look who’s talking,” he teased, starting the water and pouring in the scented bubbles.

 

She pressed herself against him. “I hope you’re joining me.”

 

“I don’t think there’s room for two in there.” Spike put a hand under her elbow as she climbed into the tub, making sure that she didn’t slip, or get her cast wet. Slowly, gently, he washed her, stealing kisses as often as he could, until he could hardly stand waiting.

 

And yet, Spike had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time.

 

He’d loved the rough, wild sex that they’d indulged in. Spike had loved the pain that she’d brought him in all of its forms; he got off on it. But knowing that Buffy wouldn’t allow him to be tender had caused him to want it all the more. For the longest time, Spike had wanted to worship her—to show her how good it could be.

 

The fact that her birthday was coming up presented him with the perfect opportunity.

 

Spike had washed Drusilla’s hair before, when she’d been too ill to do it herself. Buffy’s reaction to the attention was much like his former lover’s; she became boneless under his hands, relaxing until Spike thought she might fall asleep right there in the tub.

 

Somehow, they made it back to his bed, Buffy ignoring her wet hair in favor of Spike’s arms, among other attributes.

 

“I love you.” Spike spoke the words at the same time as Buffy, and they both laughed. “There’s one more thing, Buffy.”

 

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “More? Because I’m thinking that this might take the cake for best birthday present ever.”

 

“It’s in the drawer.” Spike reached for the bedside table, Buffy’s weight effectively pinning him, unless he tumbled her off—which he had no intention of doing. He fished around for a few moments, and then came up with a black box. “I know it’s not much, an’ if you don’t like it, you can always take it back. I won’t mind.”

 

“I’m sure it’s great, Spike.” Buffy was just about to open the box when the phone rang.

 

“Let’s ignore it,” he said.

 

Buffy shook her head. “We can’t. What if it’s an emergency?”

 

Spike sighed and reached for the phone, knowing that Buffy was right. He really wished that he wasn’t dating a hero sometimes; this was one of those times. “This better be good.” Buffy gave him a dirty look for his brusque greeting, but Spike ignored her.

 

“It’s Willow,” she said, sounding hesitant. “Is this a bad time?”

 

“You could say that.” Spike sighed. “Is there a problem?”

 

“No,” Willow said slowly. “I just thought that you might want to meet Tara and me for ice cream. She has an idea for how you guys might be able to predict the future, even though things are changing.”

 

“Great.” Spike tried to work up some enthusiasm, but his mind was on something else at the moment. “Can we talk about it some other time?”

 

“Um, sure,” Willow agreed readily. “I’ll talk to Buffy tomorrow.”

 

“Good idea,” Spike said dryly. “I’ll tell her to call you.” He hung up the phone without giving Willow a chance to reply, although he knew it was a bit rude.

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “You could have been more polite.”

 

“I could have,” he agreed. “But she interrupted.”

 

“She didn’t know, Spike.” Buffy sounded more amused than annoyed, however, and Spike knew there were no hard feelings on her part.

 

His eyes went to the black box she was still holding. “I’m not interested in Willow right now, pet.”

 

She grinned at him. “I think you’re more excited about this than I am.”

 

“If you feel the same way after you open it, I’ll be worried.” Spike cocked an eyebrow. “Well?”

 

Buffy snickered and fumbled open the box. Her eyes widened, and she touched the pendant inside reverently. “Spike…this is too much.”

 

“Nothing is too much.”

 

Two intertwined circles—one silver, one gold—hung from a silver chain, a diamond suspended between them.

 

“I thought it was fitting,” Spike said softly, searching her face anxiously. “Do you like it?”

 

“Like it?” Buffy asked incredulously. “I _love_ it, Spike. No one has ever given me anything this beautiful.” She pulled it out of the box with a trembling hand. “Put it on me?”

 

“Of course.” Spike fastened it around her neck, brushing her hair out of the way.

 

She kissed him, deeply, hungrily, pushing him down on the bed one-handed and straddling his middle. “I think it might take me all night to say thank you.”

 

“I’m all yours.”

 

“Forever?” Buffy asked, her eyes holding his.

 

“As long as you’ll have me.”

 

“Forever it is.”

 

Buffy was right; it did take all night.


	21. Planning for the Future

Buffy stood in front of her mirror, straightening the red dress she wore. She shifted the top of it, adjusting it to get just the right amount of cleavage. Spike’s jaw was going to hit the floor when he saw her, and she touched the pendant that hung around her neck.

 

She’d been honest when she’d said that no one had ever given her a gift like that. Angel had given her the necklace with a cross, and the claddagh ring, as had Scott Hope. Riley, oddly enough, had never given her any jewelry, not even for her birthday or Christmas.

 

Buffy tried in vain to remember any of Riley’s gifts, but couldn’t. She remembered that he had always given her items that she’d wanted or needed, but nothing that had knocked her socks off the way that Spike had. The whole night had been perfect.

 

Everything was perfect.

 

She stared at herself in the mirror, hardly able to believe that she was the same girl who had been so angry. Buffy could remember being depressed, wanting to strike out and hurt someone else as badly as she was hurting. She could certainly remember feeling like half a person, walking around in a numb sort of haze most of the time, with moments of intense pain and greatly subdued happiness.

 

Buffy remembered feeling that way, but it was almost like a dream. Just a bad dream that had faded with time.

 

“Buffy?” She heard her mother’s voice and a brief knock. “Oh.” Joyce stopped. “You look beautiful, honey.”

 

“Thanks, Mom.” Buffy looked in the mirror one last time to be sure she looked okay, then turned to the older woman. “Do you need any help?”

 

“I’ve got it,” Joyce assured her. “Mr. Giles just showed up with the cake, though. I thought you might want to come down.”

 

“Sure.” Buffy followed her mother down the stairs, feeling even more pleased when she saw the expression on her Watcher’s face as soon as he caught sight of her. “Hey, Giles.”

 

“You look lovely, Buffy.” He looked around. “Am I the first to arrive?”

 

She nodded. “Looks like it. Hopefully, this won’t be as crazy as my ‘welcome home’ party turned out to be.”

 

“I don’t have any strange masks hanging on my wall,” Joyce assured her. “And I don’t think that anyone else is coming over, other than your friends.”

 

Buffy frowned, suddenly concerned that no one had invited Tara. “Did you tell Willow to bring Tara?”

 

“Tara?” Giles asked.

 

“You met her at Christmas time,” Buffy reminded him. “She was pretty quiet, though.”

 

He frowned. “I thought—” Giles stopped. “Didn’t you say that she died?”

 

Buffy nodded grimly. “But she’s not going to this time.”

 

She couldn’t be sure of that, of course. Even when you knew the future, it turned out to be impossible to accurately predict what was going to happen. Buffy understood that even if she prevented Warren from shooting her, something else could happen that was equally senseless. Or someone else might die.

 

Buffy no longer knew how this worked, if some kind of balance had to be maintained, and so someone had to die. In her darkest moments, Buffy wondered if—by saving her mother or Tara—she was dooming another person she loved. Even if that was true, however, Buffy didn’t think she could do it any other way.

 

“She’s the new relationship?” Giles asked, breaking into Buffy’s rather morbid thoughts. “What will happen when Oz returns?”

 

“I have no idea,” Buffy admitted. “It might turn out differently this time.”

 

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted the rest of their conversation, and Buffy went to greet Xander and Anya. She was beginning to get a little concerned for Spike, since he wasn’t there yet. Normally, where she was involved, Spike tended to be early, rather than late, in meeting her.

 

Willow and Tara showed up together shortly after that, and Buffy felt her anxiety grow. Spike should have been there. “Where’s Spike?” Willow asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “He didn’t say anything about being late.”

 

“Spike can take care of himself,” Xander said. “And he’s got the ring.”

 

“Yeah, he does.” She mustered up a smile. “Do you guys want something to drink?”

 

“W-water w-w-would be good,” Tara said shyly.

 

Buffy nodded. “Willow?”

 

“Water for me, too.”

 

“Xander? Anya?”

 

“You got any soda?” Xander asked.

 

Buffy nodded. “I think so. I’ll check to see what Mom got.”

 

“I’ll help,” Xander replied, standing. “It’s your birthday, and you’re still one-handed.”

 

Buffy gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Xan.”

 

He followed her back to the kitchen, where her mother and Giles were chatting like old friends. It was odd to see them so friendly. Buffy didn’t remember them ever being so comfortable with one another, particularly after the incident with the band candy.

 

“Dinner is almost ready,” Joyce said.

 

Buffy shrugged. “I was just going to get some drinks. Do we have any soda, Mom?”

 

“In the fridge,” Joyce replied.

 

Xander stuck his head in the fridge as Buffy got the water ready. “Buffy? You want one?”

 

“Please.” Buffy turned to her mom. “You haven’t heard from Spike, have you?”

 

Joyce shook her head. “No. He didn’t say anything to you about being late?”

 

“No.” Buffy bit her lip. “Giles?”

 

Her Watcher gave her an apologetic look. “I haven’t heard from him, Buffy.”

 

A frantic rapping came from the kitchen door. Buffy waved the others back and went to open it, her muscles wire-tight. It was her birthday, after all; it only made sense that there would be a vampire at the back door.

 

Spike stood there, looking disheveled and more than a little pissed off. “Sorry I’m late.”

 

Buffy stepped aside. “What happened?”

 

“Soldiers caught sight of me, and they didn’t bother with a taser.” He gave her a wry smile. “Good thing we celebrated the other day.”

 

“What happened?” Giles asked. “Are you alright?”

 

“I will be as soon as you dig the tracer out of my back.” Spike shrugged out of his jacket. “Don’t think the ring will mask the signal.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Wait a second. Didn’t they try this the last time?”

 

“And your Watcher charged me for his help,” Spike confirmed.

 

Buffy knew that wasn’t exactly what had happened, and from the twinkle in Spike’s eye, she could see that he was giving Giles a hard time. Of course, Giles didn’t know that.

 

“I can’t believe—” Giles began.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “What Spike didn’t mention was that he charged you first.” She frowned. “Ethan hasn’t shown up yet, has he?”

 

“I haven’t seen him,” Giles said.

 

Spike finished unbuttoning his shirt, then pulled his t-shirt over his head. “Don’t think we can count on the timeline anymore, pet. Just have to take things as they come.” He turned his back to her. “Can you see it?”

 

The ring had caused the skin to heal over already, but Buffy could feel the lump as she probed the area with her fingers “I can’t see it, but I can feel it. We’re going to have to dig it out.”

 

“Why am I not surprised?” Spike muttered. “Better do it quick, before they track me here. Don’t want them knowing where you live.”

 

“Did they find you last time?” Joyce asked.

 

Spike shook his head. “The Watcher dug it out before they got here, and Red worked her mojo to ionize the atmosphere to interfere with the tracer’s signal. Dunno how close they were, though.”

 

“Well, let’s get to it, then,” Giles said. “Joyce, do you have a very sharp knife?”

 

Joyce and Spike both winced. “I’ll get one,” she said.

 

“If you have any alcohol, that would be nice,” Spike added.

 

“I’ll get it,” Joyce said.

 

“What’s going on?” Willow asked. She and Tara were standing in the doorway of the kitchen with Anya just behind them, craning her neck to get a better look at Spike’s naked chest.

 

Buffy was tempted to tell her to stop ogling her boyfriend, but she couldn’t really blame Anya. “Spike got tagged by the Initiative. Willow, can you do some kind of spell to make it harder for them to trace the signal?”

 

Willow frowned. “Something to ionize the atmosphere maybe?” she suggested. “I don’t have the right book here.”

 

“There’s one at my apartment,” Giles said, pulling out his keys. “Xander? Would you mind driving her over to get it?”

 

“Sure thing, G-Man,” Xander responded.

 

Giles sighed at the nickname. “Willow, the book is on the third shelf down, on the wall next to the kitchen.”

 

“Okay,” Willow said. “Be back soon.”

 

Giles took the knife that Joyce held out to him silently. “Buffy, would you get a chair from the dining room? I think it might be best to do this in the kitchen.”

 

Buffy nodded, touching Spike’s bare shoulder in a comforting gesture before getting the chair. It looked as though the Initiative was interested in the both of them now, even though they had tried to fly under the radar.

 

They _really_ needed to figure out how to close the base down, and soon.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike winced as Giles dug into his shoulder once again. The tracer was just as difficult to dig out this time, and although the Watcher was being as gentle as he could, there was still a certain amount of pain involved.

 

“Here.” Joyce held out the glass she’d refilled with bourbon, and Spike tossed it back. He’d been forced to take the ring off when it became apparent that the skin would heal over almost as quickly as Giles could cut.

 

The good news was that as soon as Spike put the ring back on, the wound would heal, and he’d be pain-free again. Until then, however—

 

“Bloody hell,” Spike yelped as Giles made a particularly deep cut.

 

“Sorry,” Giles murmured. “I’ve almost got it.”

 

“Glad to hear it,” Spike gritted out. Willow had already done her spell, and he knew that they probably didn’t have much time before the signal cleared and the Initiative found them.

 

While he hadn’t wanted to lead the soldiers back to Buffy’s house—and Spike had done everything in his power to throw them off his scent—there hadn’t been much of a choice. Everyone who could be of any assistance to him was at the Summers’ residence. He could only hope that they would be in time, and that the soldiers wouldn’t trace Buffy’s location, as well as her identity.

 

If only he could find out exactly what the Initiative wanted from them. Spike hadn’t quite given up on the idea of grabbing one of the soldiers and leaning on him.

 

“Got it,” Giles said triumphantly. “Xander?”

 

Xander grabbed the tweezers that Giles held out to him and ran for the bathroom. A moment later, they could all hear the toilet flush, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

 

Buffy handed Spike his ring, and he slipped it on again, feeling the wound in his back close up as though it had never existed.

 

“It’s gone,” Joyce marveled, leaning in for a closer look.

 

“I wish I had one of those,” Xander announced, entering the room again. “Stubbed toes would be a thing of the past.”

 

Spike ignored the comment in favor of greeting his girlfriend properly, ignoring the others in the room. “You look amazing,” he said quietly, resting his forehead against hers.

 

She pulled him towards the stairs. “I think I have a spare shirt of yours upstairs.”

 

“I’ll finish getting dinner on the table,” Joyce said. “I just hope it isn’t ruined.”

 

“Sorry about that, Joyce,” Spike said.

 

She waved off his apology. “Don’t worry about it. Things like this come up.”

 

Once he and Buffy were alone in her bedroom, she gave him a deep, almost bruising kiss. “Are you okay?”

 

“Just fine,” he assured her.

 

“What happened?”

 

He shook his head. “They caught me about a block away from my apartment. Felt the dart hit my shoulder, and I knew exactly what had happened. Tried to shake them on my way back here. Should have driven, but the car needs some work done.”

 

“I don’t like this, Spike,” Buffy confessed. “They’ve gotten too close too many times now.”

 

“We need to figure out some way to shut them down,” Spike agreed. “Gotta talk to the others about that.” He smiled at her. “Sorry for ruining your party.”

 

“You didn’t ruin it,” Buffy assured him. “It would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t shown up.”

 

“Did I tell you that you look incredible?”

 

Buffy smiled. “I think you might have mentioned something about that, but feel free to tell me again.”

 

“You look incredible.” Spike kissed her again, grateful that they’d been given a reprieve.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara was surprised to not only find herself the center of attention, but also to realize that Spike and Buffy were willing to put their complete faith in her words. She found herself torn between hiding and doing everything in her power to live up to their lofty expectations. In the end, she sat up a little straighter and forced the words out through her stuttering.

 

“What’s the catch to the scrying bowl you’re talking about?” Buffy asked. “Is it dangerous?”

 

Tara shook her head, swallowing. “I-it’s n-n-n-not d-dangerous.”

 

“You didn’t want to know the future before, pet,” Spike said gently. “In fact, you were pretty adamant that I _not_ tell you anything. What’s changed your mind?”

 

“W-w-w—” She stopped, frustrated.

 

“I told her that you guys were worried because you couldn’t anticipate the future,” Willow said.

 

Tara took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. “The d-danger is in seeing something you d-d-don’t w-w-w-want to. It can be hard to control what you’re shown.”

 

“Is that what happened to you?” Spike asked.

 

She shook her head. “My mom.”

 

To Tara’s surprise, Buffy reached out and gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze, then met Spike’s eyes. They seemed to communicate silently. “Okay, guys. Full disclosure.” She looked at Xander. “You were right. We do need your help, but it’s hard for us to ask.”

 

“But why?” Willow asked. “You know we want to do anything we can to help.”

 

Buffy visibly hesitated. “That hasn’t always been true.”

 

“You’re not the only one who got a second chance, Buffy,” Xander reminded her.

 

Spike was quick to leap to her defense. “That’s easy for you to say. She’s gone through hell the last couple of years, and—”

 

Buffy put her hand on his arm to calm him. “Spike. It’s okay.” She looked at her Watcher. “We came back to fix one event, and suddenly we’ve got more than a year of problems to deal with. It was supposed to be just Spike and me, making sure that I didn’t die, or that I didn’t get resurrected. Neither one of us know how much to change, or how much to tell you guys.”

 

“Why don’t we start with the Initiative?” Giles suggested. “With the soldiers interested in both of you now, that’s our most pressing problem.” When Xander opened his mouth to protest, he added, “I think we can all agree that none of us have been in this particular situation, and that we cannot criticize what we don’t fully understand.”

 

“Mr. Giles is right,” Joyce said firmly. “There’s no sense in pointing fingers now. We can start over from here, with the understanding that no one is an expert.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Okay.”

 

Tara might have had a hard time believing the story that followed. It was one thing to accept that vampires and demons existed—she’d always known about them—but a man-made demonic cyborg? That was a little harder to swallow. Not that she _didn’t_ believe them, but it was hard to picture, and harder to understand.

 

“Without my involvement in the Initiative, though, Professor Walsh might never activate Adam, or maybe she’ll wait, and he’ll be under her control,” Buffy finished. “That doesn’t solve the problem. I thought we could wait it out, but—”

 

“I’m going to have to contact the Council,” Giles finally said, after a long, thoughtful pause. “I don’t have the necessary contacts to protect you, Buffy, and they can’t be allowed to continue operating as they are.”

 

“Is that really necessary?” Buffy asked plaintively. “Isn’t there some other way?”

 

Giles looked over at Tara. “Could you see the results of either decision? To wait it out, or to contact the Watcher’s Council?”

 

Tara considered the question. She didn’t have the experience that her mother had had, but she knew the basics, and this was certainly within her power. Someday, Willow would probably be able to move heaven and earth; she could merely nudge and coax.

 

“I can try,” she finally said. “I-I haven’t t-tried to scry in a long time.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Spike said firmly. “Anything you can tell us will be more than we already know.”

 

“I need a few things,” Tara said.

 

“It’s late,” Joyce interrupted. “I’m sure that this can wait until tomorrow.”

 

Tara recognized that tone of voice. It was the same one her mother had used on her and Donny—before her brother had gotten old enough to defy her. That tone had worked, too, for the most part.

 

Everyone else began to rise automatically, responding to Joyce’s authority.

 

“Can I offer you and Willow a ride back to campus?” Giles offered.

 

Willow nodded. “Thanks, Giles.” She looked at Buffy. “Are you staying here tonight?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “Until we get this thing with the soldiers figured out, it’s probably better for me to spend less time at school.”

 

“Spike?” Joyce asked. “Do you want to stay here tonight? The spare bed is available.”

 

He smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Joyce. That would be nice.”

 

There was a flurry of activity as everyone gathered up their things, and Buffy thanked everybody for her gifts. Tara was surprised when Buffy hugged her along with everyone else. “Thank you,” she said, sincerely. “I know this isn’t something that you have to do.”

 

“I w-want to,” Tara replied, realizing that she meant it. She wanted to help; she wanted to be the person that Spike and Buffy saw when they looked at her.

 

Tara thought that might be someone she could be proud of.

 

~~~~~

 

Joyce had appreciated being included in the planning session the night before, although it made it rather difficult to get out of bed the next morning. There was no doubt that Buffy had been more willing of late to let her in on the part of her life that she’d always kept hidden.

 

There were moments, of course, when Joyce wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for her daughter’s new honesty. Ignorance was bliss, as the proverb went, and she was less than blissful these days, now that she’d been given a glimpse of what a Slayer’s life was like.

 

Whatever fears and anxieties were stirred up, however, she couldn’t regret it.

 

Spike and Buffy were awake and lounging on the couch, watching a movie, when she got home that evening. “Are you guys hungry?” she called. “I brought chicken.”

 

“That sounds good,” Buffy replied, pausing the tape and following her into the kitchen. “How was work?”

 

“Good,” Joyce said. “What did you do today?”

 

“Not much,” Buffy admitted. “I probably should have gone back to campus to get some things, but—” She shrugged. “I’ll get over there tomorrow.”

 

“Need any help?” Spike asked.

 

“I’ve got it.”

 

Dinner was really rather pleasant, given that it included her daughter and her boyfriend. After Angel, Joyce hadn’t been sure that she’d _ever_ like any of Buffy’s boyfriends, but Spike was a pleasant change.

 

And, even if he hadn’t been, it appeared that he was there on a permanent basis.

 

“What are you two going to do tonight?” she asked as they finished clearing the plates.

 

“Tara’s doing her mojo at the Watcher’s place,” Spike replied. “Guess we’ll find out what the future holds.”

 

Joyce had to admit that she was a little nervous about that. She knew more than enough about the future—or possible future—at this point. She didn’t think she wanted to know more.

 

“We should go,” Buffy said, cramming the last of the paper plates into the garbage and glancing at the clock. “We’re going to be late.”

 

“Will you take the garbage out with you?” Joyce requested.

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Spike said. “See you soon, Joyce.”

 

“Bye, Mom. Don’t wait up.” Buffy gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then followed Spike out the door.

 

Joyce closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that what Buffy saw of the future would help—and not hurt.


	22. Old Friends

Willow had never even heard of a scrying bowl. She’d mostly been focused on spells with more power, like conjuring and controlling the elements. Besides, from everything she’d heard, what Tara was doing took a lot of natural talent. Willow had power, but little ability to read Tarot cards, or palms. It seemed that she wasn’t in tune with the elements.

 

At that moment, however, she had to admit to being just a little bit jealous, because Tara was providing an invaluable service.

 

Willow sat next to Xander where they had crowded together on the couch, Anya on his other side. The center of the room had been cleared, and Tara sat cross-legged with the bowl in front of her. Giles, Buffy, and Spike were watching from the edge of the room with interest.

 

Tara poured water into the bowl from a pitcher set aside for that purpose. She murmured something in a low voice. Willow couldn’t catch the words, but she saw Tara pass her hand over the bowl three times before bending over it and peering into the water.

 

No one spoke; it seemed that everyone was holding their breaths.

 

Finally, Tara spoke. “I see a dark-haired girl in a hospital bed.”

 

“Faith,” Buffy said. “What else?”

 

“She’s waking up.” Tara frowned. “I can’t see what happens after that.”

 

“What does that mean?” Spike asked.

 

Tara shook her head. “P-probably that a-anything c-could happen.”

 

“What about the Initiative?” Buffy asked. “Do you see anything? Like a giant demon cyborg?”

 

Tara frowned in concentration. “No, I—wait.” Her face drained of color, and she looked up at Buffy. “Does he have a skewer in his arm?”

 

Buffy nodded. “Why?”

 

“You’re going to need to watch out for that,” she hedged, looking back down into the water.

 

“Did you see him kill Buffy?” Willow asked immediately, feeling a little freaked out at the idea.

 

Tara hesitated. “Just because I see it in the bowl doesn’t mean that’s what is going to happen.”

 

“But it means that there’s a danger.” Spike’s tone was dangerous. “We’ll have to get to him first.”

 

“Can you see any way to do that?” Buffy asked, looking a little pale herself.

 

Tara shook her head. “No, I—” She stopped, then frowned. “You’re going to need the other girl. Faith?”

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “Buffy’s supposed to get Faith to help her with the Initiative? She’s evil!”

 

“No, she’s not,” Buffy said quietly. “At least, she isn’t always. Tara, do you see anything with my mom?”

 

Tara was quiet for a moment, and then she smiled. “I see her holding a baby.”

 

Buffy’s eyes went wide with alarm. “A _baby_?”

 

“I don’t know whose,” Tara was quick to say, “but your mom looks happy.”

 

Spike nodded, as though satisfied. “Think Joyce is going to be all right, luv.”

 

Tara straightened, beginning to rise shakily. “That’s all I can see right now.”

 

Spike was at her side immediately. “You did fine, pet. Better than we could have hoped for.”

 

Willow got up so that Tara could take her spot on the couch. “Did you really see Buffy…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

 

Tara sighed. “It doesn’t mean that it’s going to happen.”

 

“But it means that it _could_.” Buffy rubbed her forehead tiredly.

 

“It’s not gonna happen,” Spike insisted. “We’ll take him out first, even if it means we have to sneak into the labs and rip Adam limb from limb.”

 

“Enough,” Giles said, stepping in. “We know what we have to watch for now.”

 

Willow frowned, wondering how they were going to watch for it when they didn’t know when or where Adam would strike next. She eyed the scrying bowl speculatively. She’d have to do some research, but Willow thought that there might be a way to build a better mousetrap.

 

~~~~~

 

“But what baby?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike stared at her. “Luv, aren’t there bigger things to worry about? Like how we’re going to bring Faith over to our side, or how we’re going to make sure you aren’t killed?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “I’ve died before. After a while, it’s hard to get excited about it. I want to know what baby Tara saw, because that’s just weird. When would Mom have a baby to hold?”

 

“Babysitting for a friend?” Spike suggested. “That’s not a problem. Faith is.”

 

Buffy sighed. In truth, she hadn’t wanted to think about Faith, or dying at Adam’s hands. “Fine. Faith should be waking up any day now. What would you suggest we do?”

 

“Station someone at the hospital,” Spike said. “Intercept her when she wakes up, and somehow convince her that she’ll be better off on our side.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s going to work, Spike. After the last time, I’m not sure that Faith can be reached. Not by me, anyway, and not right now.”

 

“Why not?” he asked. “If she knows what’s coming, that she’ll end up in jail if she doesn’t go along with it?”

 

Buffy shook her head. She’d seen Faith’s future, and so she knew that the other Slayer had one, that she could be something other than the bad girl they’d all believed her. Not to overlook the fact that she’d taken a walk on the wild side, and had burned plenty of bridges.

 

She vividly remembered _this_ Faith, the one who had been so intent on taking over her life, from the inside out. Faith had been willing to destroy her, and willing to throw her to the wolves.

 

And that reminded her…

 

“We’ll have to be on the lookout for the Council goons,” Buffy said. “They grabbed me the last time, and they would have shot me if I hadn’t stopped them.”

 

Spike nodded. “We’ll just have to get to Faith first, that’s all. How much time do you think we have?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “A few weeks ago, I probably could have given you a time frame, but the Gentlemen switched locations, and Ethan Rayne hasn’t shown up yet. I was sure he’d have approached Giles by now.”

 

Spike frowned in thought. “I’ll see what I can do at the hospital. Maybe I can pay someone off to notify us when she starts waking up. That would be better than one of us having to stay there constantly.”

 

“Much better,” Buffy agreed. She glanced around the cemetery. “You ready to call it a night? It’s dead out here. No pun intended.”

 

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Might as well. I had plans anyway.”

 

“Oh?” Buffy often liked Spike’s plans these days, so she was interested in hearing what he had in mind. “What’s that?”

 

“You think your mum would mind if you stayed at my place tonight?” he asked, not bothering to answer her question.

 

“I doubt it. She seems to have gotten used to the idea of the two of us together. Why?”

 

“Because what I had planned is going to take all night.”

 

~~~~~

 

Giles checked his watch as he walked out of the Espresso Pump. He’d had a very nice conversation with the proprietor where it had come out that he sang and played the guitar. They had been discussing their musical pasts, and she had suggested that he perform some night.

 

It was an intriguing idea, one he had promised to think about. In truth, Giles was beginning to wish for some employment other than trying to figure out how to best help Spike and Buffy. Not that it wasn’t an important job, but he needed something more. Although Buffy seemed to be relying on him more heavily of late, it still wasn’t a full time position.

 

“Ripper!”

 

The corners of Giles’ lips tilted upwards. Buffy had warned him that Ethan would be coming to town, and a scuffle was just what he needed.

 

Of course, after he got done beating the information out of Ethan, there really was no way he could allow the man to go free. Rayne would be sure to cause trouble, and Giles wasn’t sure what he’d done the first time around.

 

“Ethan.” Not wanting to put Rayne on edge, Giles grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved him back into a nearby alley. “I didn’t think you’d have the nerve to show your face around here again.”

 

“I have information!” Ethan replied quickly, holding up his hands in protest. “Information that you’re going to need.”

 

Giles slammed him back against the wall. “I doubt it.”

 

“It’s about the Initiative.” Ethan looked at him hopefully. “I’ve heard that you’ve been having trouble with that lot.”

 

Giles released him reluctantly. “What of it?”

 

“I told you, Ripper. I have information that could help. Surely you don’t want to miss out on a chance to protect your Slayer.”

 

As always, Ethan knew exactly the right buttons to push, and Giles nodded. “Fine.” Remembering what Buffy said, he added, “But why don’t we go back to my place? I don’t want to be overheard.”

 

Giles didn’t think that the Initiative was so well informed that they would hear of a conversation between two middle-aged Englishmen, but it was better safe than sorry. Besides, it would be much easier to keep Rayne at his apartment afterwards. He’d get exactly what he needed out of Ethan, and then he would tie him up and call Buffy.

 

Nothing could be simpler.

 

~~~~~

 

As a rule, Joyce didn’t like phone calls in the middle of the night; they rarely meant good news, and since finding out that Buffy was the Slayer, she feared them even more. Even knowing that Buffy was safely in bed just down the hall couldn’t stifle the thick wave of fear she felt upon being startled out of a deep sleep. “Hello?”

 

“Joyce? It’s Rupert. I need to speak with Buffy.”

 

She frowned. “Is everything okay?”

 

“It’s fine,” he replied, sounding rather tense. “But an old friend just came into town, and I need to be sure that he doesn’t present a threat.”

 

“I’ll wake her up,” Joyce replied. She rose, taking the cordless phone with her into Buffy’s room. She shook her daughter awake, whispering, “Buffy, it’s Mr. Giles.”

 

Buffy stirred sleepily and reached for the phone, her eyes still closed. “Got it, Mom,” she murmured. “Giles?” she asked, yawning into the mouthpiece.

 

Joyce couldn’t hear what Giles said, but her daughter’s reaction was immediate. “Don’t let him out of your sight,” she ordered. “I’m going to call Spike, and we’ll be over there as soon as possible.” There was a pause, and then Buffy said, “Of course it’s necessary, Giles. You don’t know what happened the last time, and Spike and I will need to deal with him somehow. I can’t turn him over to the Initiative this time.”

 

Buffy disconnected, then immediately dialed Spike’s number.

 

Joyce belatedly realized that she’d been eavesdropping, and that she probably should leave the room, but she didn’t see the point. If Buffy was going to leave, Joyce wanted to know about it. She was awake now, and it made no sense to go back to bed before she was sure she could _stay_ there.

 

Her daughter’s conversation with Spike was brief. She simply told him that Giles had called and that she needed a ride to his apartment. Once she’d hung up, Buffy looked at her. “I’m sorry we woke you, Mom.”

 

“What was that all about?” Joyce asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

 

“Do you remember the band candy?”

 

Joyce colored slightly, grateful for the dim light of the room. “How could I forget?”

 

“It was the guy responsible for that,” Buffy explained. “Last time around, Ethan turned Giles into a demon, which caused all sorts of problems. This time, Giles tied Rayne up, but we need to figure out what to do with him.”

 

Joyce nodded. “Well, good luck, sweetheart. You’ll call me tomorrow and let me know how it turns out?”

 

“Sure thing,” Buffy promised.

 

Joyce went back to bed, although she lay sleepless for a long time, wondering what was to come, and how many other problems they would have that couldn’t be solved quite so easily.

 

~~~~~

 

“This is really unnecessary.” Ethan struggled against the ropes that held him. “I came to you in friendship, Ripper.”

 

Spike snorted. “You came to turn him into a Fyarl demon, and you didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know.”

 

Rayne’s eyes narrowed. “And what is your business with all of this, hmm? You’re a vampire; you ought to be killing the Slayer.”

 

“Never did do what I was told,” Spike responded cheerfully. “Don’t see why I should start now.” He looked at Giles. “I would still vote for dumping him in the desert.”

 

Giles frowned thoughtfully. “It’s an idea.”

 

“Rupert!” Ethan protested. “You can’t do that! You’re supposed to be one of the good guys.”

 

Giles shrugged. “Perhaps, but as you insist on reminding me, I’m still Ripper deep down.” He looked at Buffy. “What would you suggest?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “The desert sounds like a plan. I mean, he keeps coming back, and the third time is the charm. Or maybe it should be three strikes and he’s out.”

 

“Wait!” Ethan said rather desperately. “I haven’t told you everything about the Initiative.”

 

Giles smiled grimly. “And why am I not surprised?”

 

“The woman in charge has heard rumors of the Slayer,” Ethan said, clearly anxious to give them enough information to convince them not to dump him in the desert—or something equally unpleasant. Spike could think of any number of possibilities.

 

“And where would she have heard these rumors?” Giles demanded. “From you?”

 

“No!” Ethan replied, his voice indicating hurt at the accusation. “Vampires and demons know who the Slayer is in this town. The word is that she believes the rumors to be more than myth.”

 

“So what?” Buffy asked, pretending nonchalance. “I don’t think it matters what rumors she’s heard.”

 

“And when she sends a platoon of soldiers after you?” Ethan asked rather smugly for someone who was tied up. “You might want to think about getting out of town, Miss Summers.”

 

“I don’t think I need your advice,” Buffy retorted. She turned to Spike. “Would you like to eat him now? Because I think that would be allowed under the circumstances.”

 

Spike let his face shift, grinning at the magician evilly. “My pleasure.”

 

“Just a moment,” Giles cautioned, playing the good cop. “He might have more to say.”

 

Ethan nodded. “I do, as a matter of fact. The entire demon world is afraid of something called ‘314.’”

 

“Too bad we already know what that is,” Spike sneered. At a nearly imperceptible nod from Giles, he backhanded the man, causing Ethan to slump unconscious in his bonds. “What are we going to do with him?”

 

Giles sighed. “I honestly don’t know. What did you do the last time?”

 

“Nothing,” Buffy admitted. “The Initiative took him, but I wouldn’t entrust my worst enemy to them, so that’s out of the question this time.”

 

“Why not put him on a freight train?” Spike suggested. “We dump him in an empty car, an’ he might get picked up by security—or not. Up to him, and he’ll know we’re ready for him the next time he comes around.”

 

Giles thought for a moment. “That’s not a bad idea,” he admitted. “It might be enough of a deterrent that he won’t come back again.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Sounds good to me. What are we going to do about the Initiative, Giles? If they’re really that interested in me, it’s a problem.”

 

“I’ll place a call to the Council,” Giles said. “Perhaps they’ll have a suggestion.”

 

She nodded. “I guess there isn’t much else we can do.”

 

“It’s too bad we can’t do what Adam did,” Spike commented. “Seal off the entrances, an’ set the demons loose. If they had to fight it out, the soldiers might not be so keen on starting the operation out again.”

 

Buffy swallowed, looking almost sick as she said, “Why couldn’t we?”

 

Giles frowned. “What are you saying?”

 

“That’s what Adam did,” Buffy pointed out. “He released the demons, and let the soldiers and them kill each other. He wanted the body parts that he was going to get at the end of things, but we might be able to do the same thing.”

 

“How?” Spike asked. “That would take…” He trailed off, realizing where this was going. “You think Red could hack it?”

 

“I think it’s a possibility.” Her expression was miserable. “I don’t know what else to do.”

 

Giles pulled his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t a decision that we have to make tonight. I think we ought to try and find another solution first.”

 

Buffy nodded unhappily. “I agree, but I don’t know how else we can shut it down, Giles.”

 

“We’ll see.” He looked at Ethan Rayne’s unconscious form. “Are you both going to take care of him, or just Spike?”

 

Spike shrugged. “It’s up to Buffy.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Buffy said. “We probably better stick together until the Initiative is taken care of.”

 

“Agreed,” Giles said. “I’ll see both of you tomorrow. We’ll need to discuss Faith’s situation more in depth. She may not be easy to persuade.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Let’s hope that she’ll listen to reason.”

 

Spike didn’t say anything, but he had a few ideas to get Faith to listen—particularly if joining up with them was the only choice she had.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow took a deep breath, hoping that she wasn’t making a huge mistake. She knew that she’d promised Spike and Buffy that she would ask them before doing another spell, but this one was just to see the future, not to control anyone or anything.

 

The spell was a little different than the one Tara had used. It required conjuring a spirit, which would then create scenes out of the incense smoke. At least in theory that’s what would happen. Willow had never tried anything like this before.

 

She took a deep breath and began the incantation, keeping her mind focused on the task at hand, and what she most wanted to know. Willow still felt as though Buffy was holding back on her, and she wanted to see more of her own future.

 

Of course, if she came up with any useful information for the rest of the group, she would share, but Willow wanted to know what would happen with her and Oz, and if she should take him back. Maybe that decision would just lead to more heartache along the way.

 

The incense swirled up and around her, and Willow peered into the smoke, trying to tell if the spell was working. She could feel the power crackling around her, and she started to panic just a little. Willow was half-tempted to end the spell before it was completed, afraid that it would spiral out of her control.

 

Just as she was ready to end it, Willow could see figures form in the smoke. She saw Oz walking away from her, and she recognized the scene as one she’d already experienced. It shifted to show her saying goodbye to Oz, and then her kissing Tara.

 

Willow almost lost her concentration at that point. She was going to fall in love with Tara?

 

She watched as she got deeper and deeper into magic, as she performed spell after spell with disastrous consequences. Willow saw herself resurrect Buffy, and transform Amy from a rat, and go crazy with spells at the Bronze. She watched as a young girl got hurt because of her and could tell that it was a betrayal.

 

Finally, she watched as Tara died in her arms, and she killed Tara’s murderer by skinning him alive, nearly ending the world out of pain and grief.

 

Willow lost control at that point, and a strong wind rushed through the room, dissipating the smoke, and whipping her hair around her face. With tears streaming down her face, she spoke the words to end the spell.

 

“Willow? What’s going on here?”

 

She could hear the suspicion in Buffy’s voice, and Willow understood it now. It was clear why Buffy had hesitated to trust her at least with information about the future. Instinctively, Willow knew that what she’d seen represented the road she had traveled, the one Buffy had walked with her.

 

Willow still didn’t know what her future held, or whether she ought to try again with Oz. What she did know was that she was capable of great destruction.

 

“Buffy—I can explain,” Willow said quickly.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t want to hear it. Willow, how _could_ you?”

 

“I just needed to know how things with Oz were going to turn out!” she cried. “I knew you weren’t telling me everything, and I needed to know!”

 

Buffy stopped, suspicion melting away to reveal concern. “What did you see?”

 

“Me.” Willow swallowed. “I saw what I was going to do. What I did.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“I saw me—with Tara, and the magic, and killing that guy. I saw it all.”

 

“Oh, Will.” Buffy knelt on the floor next to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t want you to know. Most of the time, I don’t want to know.”

 

Willow felt the tears flow down her cheeks. “What am I going to do, Buffy? I don’t know how not to be that person. I just don’t.”

 

Buffy wrapped her up in a hug. “You won’t. I promise. We’ll figure it out.”

 

Willow couldn’t quite believe her, not after what she’d seen.


	23. Waking Up

Buffy walked down the hallway, trying to make as little noise as possible. It looked deserted, which seemed odd for a hospital in Sunnydale. She wondered what this section was for, or if it had been set aside specifically for crazy Slayers.

 

Glancing around her nervously, Buffy slipped into Faith’s room. She wasn’t sure if the Council or police were watching for signs of life, but she knew that the Council had seemed to know that Faith was awake and moving before anyone else.

 

She stared down at the still figure in the bed. Faith looked younger, more innocent, against the white sheets. Buffy reached for her hand, wondering what Faith would have done with the opportunity to go back and change a few things.

 

“Hi, Faith,” Buffy said softly. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say. Faith had turned herself into the cops, and then she’d willingly stayed behind bars. Buffy knew better than anyone what a Slayer was capable of, and she knew that Faith could have escaped at any time.

 

This wasn’t the same girl, though. So many things had happened before Faith had gotten to that point.

 

“I just want to say that I’m sorry,” Buffy finally said. “For everything. I wish things had turned out differently. If you can hear me, come find me when you wake up, okay? I’ll do anything I can to help you, I promise. There are things you need to know, and we’re going to need your help. We’ve got to stick together this time, Faith.”

 

Maybe what she said didn’t mean anything. Maybe the same thing would happen all over again, although at least Spike would be warned about the body switch.

 

Since Tara had been pretty clear about needing Faith’s help to defeat Adam, it could already be a done deal. Or it could be the event that everything else hinged upon.

 

Buffy turned to leave, not wanting to be caught in Faith’s room. Xander stood in the doorway, watching her. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I’ve got the day off,” he explained. “I thought I’d do guard duty for a while.”

 

She frowned. “You don’t have to do that, Xan.”

 

He shrugged. “I brought comics, so I’m good. It’s better if the Council people don’t see you here, right?”

 

“And if Faith wakes up and sees you?” Buffy pointed out. “Last time—”

 

“Last time was bad,” he agreed. Xander looked at her, his eyes troubled. “Do you really think this is going to work, Buffy?”

 

“I don’t know.” Buffy shared his doubt, although not because she didn’t believe Faith capable of reform. It was just the timing of events.

 

That, and she’d never completely trusted the other Slayer. Buffy still missed Kendra, and she wasn’t sure that getting Faith was a good trade. Of course, there had been rivalry with Kendra, too.

 

“I guess we don’t have a choice, do we?” he asked.

 

Buffy knew what he was referring to immediately. “No, we don’t. Not according to what Tara saw.”

 

“What are you two doing here?” The sharp question came from the doorway, just behind Xander.

 

“We’re just visiting our friend,” Buffy replied, thinking that it wasn’t a complete lie. She and Faith had almost been friends at one point, and they could be friends again.

 

It would be a miracle, but it was at least possible.

 

“This is a restricted area,” the nurse said, glaring at both of them impartially. “You’re not supposed to be down here. I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call security.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Sure. We’ll go.”

 

She was pretty sure that this did not bode well for Faith’s chances of getting free of the Council, and if they came after her again—

 

Well, that could mean that she was fighting a battle on two fronts: one with the Initiative and one with the Council.

 

“What was that about?” Xander whispered as they walked towards the elevator. “And do you want me to double back?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy replied, concerned. “I guess the Council is keeping a pretty close eye on her, which worries me. We need to reach her before they do.”

 

Xander frowned. “I can come back.”

 

“She’ll need some different clothes,” Buffy said. “If I get them for you, do you think you can sneak them into her room, along with a note? It’s the only way I can think of to prevent her from beating anybody up for something to wear.”

 

Xander grimaced. “I really wish we didn’t need her, Buf. She’s bad news.”

 

“We all are, Xander,” Buffy replied soberly. “Any one of us is capable of doing what Faith did.” She could tell that he didn’t believe her, but Buffy was well acquainted with her own darkness at this point. In a way, she hoped that for her friend’s sake, he never lost that innocence, as Willow had done.

 

She would give anything to have a little of her innocence back.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles knocked on the door gently. Buffy had told him what Willow had done over the phone, and while he wished she hadn’t performed the spell, perhaps it was for the best. He’d been in contact with Gertrude Harkness, the head of a coven in England. He knew her well, and she had made it clear that while she was willing to take Willow on as a student, the girl had to be willing to learn.

 

He knew that Willow hadn’t been fully convinced that she needed help, even after the last disastrous spell. She’d been open to the idea, but no more than that.

 

Buffy told him that she’d told Willow everything, and that the other girl had cried through the night. “I have to go see Faith,” Buffy had finished. “We’re going to have to make arrangements to get to her before the Council does. Would you talk to Willow?”

 

He had agreed, of course. Now he stood in front of her door, not knowing what to say. He knocked again when he got no answer. “Willow?” he called. “Buffy sent me by.”

 

The door opened slowly. “Hi, Giles.” Willow looked horrible, her eyes red and her face blotchy.

 

“Can I come in?” he inquired.

 

She nodded, much subdued, and stepped aside. “Buffy called you.”

 

It wasn’t a question, but Giles replied as though it was. “She did. She’s concerned about you.”

 

Willow sniffled. “I don’t know why. After what I did—”

 

“I think that Buffy understands that everyone makes mistakes.”

 

“This wasn’t a ‘mistake,’” Willow replied bitterly. “I nearly ended the world. I almost killed you.”

 

Buffy hadn’t told him that part, but Giles didn’t allow any emotion to show on his face. “You must remember that none of this has happened. As Xander pointed out, we all have a second chance now.”

 

“I’m never going to do magic again, Giles,” Willow said. “It’s the only way to prevent that from happening.”

 

Giles sat down on Buffy’s bed, waiting until Willow took a seat across from him. “I don’t think that will solve the problem. You have a gift. If you don’t learn how to utilize it properly, it _will_ use you.” He reached for her hand, enfolding it in both of his, wanting to offer her an anchor of sorts. “Just think. If you hadn’t learned to use your talents, Buffy would not have returned to the past, and the world might have come to an end.”

 

Willow appeared troubled, but it was clear that she was coming around. “What do you think I should do?”

 

“I’ve spoken to the head of the coven in England,” Giles said. “Miss Harkness has agreed to teach you over the summer, but only if you are willing to learn. I think you should go.”

 

“England, huh?” Willow smiled grimly. “Sounds more like a reward than a punishment.”

 

“Do you really think you should be punished for something you have not yet done?” Giles asked. “That hardly seems fair.”

 

“You didn’t see what I saw,” Willow replied.

 

Giles took a deep breath. “I _was_ directly responsible for someone’s death. Someone I cared for a great deal. Do you believe that I should be punished?”

 

“You’re being logical,” she accused him.

 

He smiled. “I’m trying. Is it working?”

 

“Yes.” Willow rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know how Buffy can forgive me,” she confessed. “After what I saw, now that I _know_ —”

 

Giles gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it. “Buffy has offered both of us forgiveness,” he reminded her. “You should get some rest. I will call Miss Harkness and inform her that you’ll be coming as soon as your classes are completed.”

 

Willow nodded. “Okay. I think you’re right, Giles.” She met his gaze. “I wish I hadn’t started,” she confessed. “With the magic.”

 

“I don’t know that you ever had a choice,” he replied kindly. “We do not choose our destinies, my dear.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Let go!” Faith said, breaking away from Buffy’s grasp. “Leave me alone!”

 

“I can’t!” Buffy shot back. “We need you, Faith.”

 

Faith sneered at the other Slayer. “You want to use me. You only want me around as long as you need the muscle, and then you’ll dump me, just like last time.”

 

“That’s not true,” Buffy said, her green eyes earnest. “Please, Faith, it’s important. We have to stick together on this one.”

 

She started backing away. “Forget it.”

 

“Buffy!” The voice came out of the darkness, and Faith looked around the forest warily. She had no idea where they were, or how they’d gotten there. Only a moment ago, she’d been having a picnic lunch with the Mayor.

 

Buffy’s head whipped around. “Spike?”

 

Faith saw the looming figure emerge from the darkness. It was more horrible than anything she’d ever seen. “Buffy! Look out!” She felt compelled to warn the other Slayer for the same reason she’d saved her from Trick all those long months ago.

 

Buffy turned to defend herself, but not soon enough. The Frankenstein-like monster speared her stomach with a spike that emerged from his arm.

 

Faith heard her gasp, and then the monster dumped the body on the ground, turning to her. “I am glad to have found you,” he said.

 

She turned and began to run, branches whipping her face, leaving Buffy’s body behind. Guilt clawed at her; she shouldn’t have left Buffy. There was no telling what that monster would do to her, but Faith couldn’t make herself turn around.

 

Her feet seemed to have a will of their own, carrying her away from danger. She ran into a solid chest and looked up to see Angel staring down at her. “Everything has changed,” he said, his dark eyes serious. “You have to make a choice, Faith, and you don’t have any more time.”

 

Faith stumbled backwards. “I don’t understand!” she cried.

 

“You can save yourself, Faith,” Angel said. “No one can do it for you.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snarled. “I don’t need saving.”

 

“Don’t you?” he asked cryptically.

 

Faith turned and ran, although she only made it a few feet away before tumbling into a freshly dug grave. She tried to climb out in a panic but kept slipping on the mud. Faith launched herself at the top, digging her fingers into the grass and soil on the edge. Slowly, painfully, she hauled herself out.

 

And opened her eyes.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles picked up the phone, answering absent-mindedly. He was going over his contacts list, trying to find someone who might be able to help shut down the Initiative without resorting to drastic measures. The voice on the other end struck him like a glass of cold water in the face.

 

“Angel?”

 

“I’m sorry to call so late, Giles, but Cordelia just had a vision,” Angel explained.

 

Giles frowned. He knew for a fact that this was another deviation from the original series of events. “What kind of vision?”

 

“The usual kind.” Angel’s tone sharpened. “Is Spike in town?”

 

“He is,” Giles admitted, knowing that he couldn’t dissemble this time. “In fact, he was here the last time you were in town.”

 

“What’s he doing with Buffy?”

 

“He’s helping her,” Giles said bluntly. “There is quite a bit about the situation here that you don’t know, Angel. Now, what did you see?”

 

“Cordelia was a little unclear,” Angel admitted. “Faith was in there somewhere, and men in black. All she could be certain of was that Buffy was skewered by something that resembled Frankenstein.”

 

Giles thought about correcting him; it would have been Frankenstein’s _monster_ , but he decided that it wasn’t important. “This is the second time that we’ve been warned about Adam harming Buffy,” he admitted. “That’s the monster that Cordelia saw in her vision. We’ve been having some trouble with an organization known as the Initiative. Have you heard of it?”

 

“No, I haven’t,” Angel said. “What do they do?”

 

“They’re some kind of secret government organization bent on capturing and altering demons and vampires,” Giles explained.

 

There was a long pause. “The Nazis tried that fifty years ago. Just ask Spike about that.”

 

“I will,” Giles said.

 

“I’m coming to Sunnydale.” Angel’s voice was adamant, and Giles knew that he wasn’t going to be dissuaded. “I don’t know what’s going on with Faith, but I almost reached her before the Council interfered the first time. I might have more luck this time.”

 

“The Council is likely to interfere again,” Giles warned him. “I can’t guarantee that they won’t come after either you or Spike.”

 

“I can deal with that, and I can deal with Spike, too,” Angel said darkly.

 

Giles sighed. He’d been hoping that this conversation would wait until Angel got into town, rather than having it over the phone. “Spike has his soul, Angel, and he’s with Buffy now. She won’t be happy with you if you attack him without cause.”

 

“There’s plenty of cause,” Angel growled. “Spike isn’t to be trusted.”

 

“You don’t know the entire story,” Giles snapped. “And until you do, I suggest that you remember that we have even less reason to trust _you_. Spike’s soul is anchored, and he’s proven himself ten times over.”

 

“I’m coming to Sunnydale,” Angel said after a long pause. “It sounds like you could use the extra muscle anyway.”

 

Giles felt a stirring of alarm, although Angel was right. He had been the only one to even come close to reaching Faith, and perhaps he’d be able to help. “You’ll stay away from Spike?” Giles asked.

 

“I can’t make any promises,” Angel responded, sounding just a little sulky.

 

Giles frowned, although he knew that the vampire couldn’t see his expression. “You will if you want to help,” he insisted. “Really, Angel, do you honestly believe that I would be taken in by empty assurances after what happened to _your_ soul?”

 

It was a palpable hit, and Giles knew it. Angel’s deep sigh told him that he’d won the battle. Of course, that wasn’t to say that Angel would maintain his cool upon seeing Spike, but Giles would have a word with Buffy.

 

“I promise. I’ll see you soon.”

 

Giles hung up, wondering at this latest development. It appeared that they were going to be receiving help from an unexpected source.

 

~~~~~

 

Faith pulled the IV out of her arm, wincing at the pain. She was stiff, and she had no idea where she was—other than the obvious. Clearly, it was a hospital room, and not a very nice one. She felt the first pang of apprehension. Faith couldn’t help but think that if the Mayor had won, she would have been in slightly nicer surroundings.

 

She was halfway to the door when the pile of clothing on the chair caught her eye. Approaching it warily, Faith wondered who could have left it, as though they knew she was going to awake. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it wasn’t far from what she’d have chosen for herself—black jeans and a black t-shirt. Not that they were quite as tight as she liked her clothes, but it probably was better that they were a little loose. To her surprise, there was even a pair of boots under the chair.

 

Faith wondered how her mysterious benefactor had known her size, and if the Mayor had something to do with it.

 

And then she saw the note.

 

Picking up the folded-over sheet of paper, she scanned the handwritten words quickly. Her first urge was to crumple it up, strip off the clothing, and find something else to wear. Faith got as far as crumpling the page, and then she opened it up, one of the phrases triggering her memory.

 

“ _Faith,_

_I know you probably don’t want anything from me, but we need your help. It’s important, and we have to stick together on this one. If nothing else, hear me out. You can tell me to go to hell after that, and we’ll figure something else out. Sorry I couldn’t be there when you woke up, but the Council is nosing around, and it’s not safe. Come to Giles’ place when you can, and keep your head down._

_Buffy_ ”

 

Faith took a deep breath, and then tucked the note into her back pocket. Clearly the Mayor wasn’t around anymore; Buffy would have been dead if he had succeeded. There was a small part of her that was curious about what Buffy had to say, especially after her dream.

 

A Slayer dream, if Faith wasn’t mistaken.

 

The other part of her told her to get the lay of the land first, figure out what it was that had Buffy so spooked that she was willing to let bygones by bygones. Pretty big bygones, too, when you got right down to it. The last time Faith had seen her sister-Slayer, Buffy had been hell bent on delivering her dead body to Angel to drain.

 

In fact, Buffy could wait just a little longer. Faith had no intention on doing anything Buffy wanted, not after the way things had ended. It could be a trap, and she wasn’t walking into a trap.

 

Faith was too intent on getting out of the hospital to see the nurse, who was watching her warily even as she began dialing a phone number.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike moved quietly down the hallway, sticking to the shadows. The last thing he wanted was to be seen. Buffy had told him that the nurse was watching Faith’s room like a hawk, and that Xander had reported barely escaping detection while delivering the clothing. After that, they’d decided to check back at short intervals in order to reduce the chance of being caught again. Buffy didn’t want the Council knowing of their interest, or of the time traveling spell, and Spike had agreed.

 

He’d thought it was a good idea to leave the note, too, to let Faith know who it came from. Spike didn’t know the girl, but he knew her type. She’d be wary, and there was no way she’d trust any of them right off, but she might be won over.

 

They were taking a big chance, given what Buffy had told him of their past interactions, but it was a chance they had to take. The alternative wasn’t an option.

 

Spike was halfway down the hall when he saw the nurse come marching down the hallway. Quickly ducking into an empty room, he stayed quiet, keeping an eye to the door he’d kept cracked.

 

She stopped just out of sight, but his sharp ears could hear the sounds of a phone being dialed, and then the ringing on the other end. “We’ve got a problem,” the woman said without preamble.

 

Spike could just make out the words on the other end. “She’s awake?”

 

“And moving around,” the woman confirmed. “She’s already left the room, and I’m assuming the building.”

 

“Thank you for calling,” the man on the other end said. “We’re on our way.”

 

Spike cursed silently. They’d hoped to have more time to prepare for the Council’s arrival. It was possible that the wet works team wouldn’t make its appearance for a day or two, but he doubted it. From what Buffy had said, it hadn’t taken them long to show up on scene; perhaps a day or two, but no more than that, certainly.

 

Besides, there was nothing to say that the Council wankers hadn’t received prior warning somehow.

 

He waited until the nurse had disappeared down the hall, then slipped out of the room silently. A thought hit him, and Spike squelched the urge to curse aloud. If Tara’s vision was anything to go by, it wasn’t just Faith that they needed to be worried about.

 

Adam would soon be making an appearance as well.


	24. Sister Blister

Buffy scowled at Giles. “And you couldn’t convince him to stay away?”

 

“We may need his help,” Giles replied. “And it may present a solution to the problem of what to do with Faith once this thing with Adam is settled. I don’t think she should stay in Sunnydale.”

 

Buffy sighed, knowing that he was probably right. As long as Faith was around, they were going to be competing with one another, and she no longer minded the thought of Angel with the other Slayer. If he could help Faith, fine. It would be one less problem for her to worry about. “When is he getting here?”

 

“I’m not sure, but he said it would be soon,” Giles replied.

 

“Knowing Angel, it’ll be tomorrow night at the latest,” Buffy observed. “He tends to be punctual.”

 

There was a perfunctory knock on Giles’ door before Spike walked in. “Faith’s gone,” he announced. “And I overheard the nurse talking on the phone to one of those Council gits. I don’t think it’ll be too long before they get here.”

 

“Dammit!” Buffy swore. “Why does everybody have to arrive at once?”

 

“We got more company coming?” Spike asked, taking a seat next to her on the couch.

 

Giles grimaced. “Angel called me earlier. Cordelia had a vision, and he’ll be arriving soon, although I’m not sure exactly when that will be.”

 

“Well, isn’t that just peachy,” Spike muttered.

 

Buffy knew exactly how he felt. Having Angel and Spike in the same room was likely to give her a very bad headache. “We’ll work with what we’ve got.” She reached for his hand. “A lot has changed.”

 

He met her eyes, and she could see a faint smile form. “Yeah. We’ll put Peaches to work. What about Faith?”

 

“She knows we want to talk to her. I’d suggest giving her time, but I don’t want the Council to get to her first.”

 

Giles nodded in agreement with Buffy’s words. “I agree.”

 

“You’re forgetting something,” Spike pointed out. “It’s likely that we can expect Adam to make an appearance soon.”

 

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. He came out a lot earlier the last time.”

 

“Last time the Initiative was well aware of who you were,” Giles reminded her. “This time they have less information. It’s possible that they will have more control.”

 

“Or not,” Buffy said. She groaned, letting her head flop against the back of the couch. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”

 

“Other than the usual reason?” Spike asked with a wry smile.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“We live on a Hellmouth.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Other than that.”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “I think it might be best to continue with your usual patrols—together, although I probably don’t have to tell you that. Keep a sharp eye out for both Faith and Adam. I’m assuming that Angel will come here first, since he knows where to find me.”

 

Buffy nodded her agreement. “I guess since we already have some idea of what Faith might do we can afford to wait.” She looked over at Spike. “Just promise me that if I start acting at all weird, you’ll knock me out and find Faith. I do _not_ want her sleeping with my boyfriend this time.”

 

Spike snorted. “I’m not nearly as clueless as your last boyfriend.”

 

Buffy felt a pang, remembering that Riley was no longer around. On the other hand, she knew that Spike was right; if ever anyone had known her inside and out, it was him. Of course, Spike had known her in every incarnation: enemy, reluctant ally, even more reluctant protector, friend, abuser, lover—and beloved. What they were to one another—what they had been to one another—couldn’t be described in words.

 

The lack hadn’t been in Riley, or in her friends. The miracle was Spike.

 

She said none of this aloud, however. Buffy simply smiled and said, “No. You’re definitely not clueless.”

 

~~~~~

 

Faith walked down the street, looking around her in disbelief. She’d been so sure that the Mayor would win the battle and take over Sunnydale, and that she would be at his right hand. Now she was looking at the pedestrians strolling casually down the street, as though it was any other day, as though the world hadn’t come within a hairsbreadth of ending.

 

They were so clueless, so weak. Seeing them reminded Faith that she had been like that once; she had been unable to protect herself from the people bigger and stronger than her. She’d fallen victim to others too many times to let it happen again.

 

She saw a police officer coming towards her and quickly ducked into an alley. Faith had no idea if the cops were aware of her involvement with the Mayor, or what she’d done for him. She knew that he’d promised to make sure there was no evidence and no investigation linking her to any crime. Whether he’d made good on that promise was anyone’s guess.

 

Faith wiped her hands on the legs of her jeans reflexively, remembering the blood.

 

“Hey, Faith. I’ve got a message for you.”

 

She turned at the sound of her name to see a demon approaching her. “What?”

 

“A message from a mutual friend.” The demon was within a few feet of her when Faith was jerked backwards, out of the way.

 

A bright beam of energy hit the package that the demon was holding, causing it to catch on fire. The demon started backing up, its hands up. “You’d better run, ma’am,” the black-clad man holding the gun said.

 

For a moment, Faith considered telling him that she could take care of herself, but she didn’t know this guy, and she didn’t know the demon. The package he’d been trying to deliver had already been destroyed, so it wasn’t like he could do anything for her.

 

“Yeah, sure.” Faith backed off, then took off running. She couldn’t help but wonder what the demon had been trying to give to her, and who their mutual friend was.

 

Not that it mattered now; she was on her own, as she’d always been.

 

~~~~~

 

Angel rolled into town alone, even though he’d offered Cordelia a ride back. Wesley hadn’t wanted to revisit the site of his last humiliation, and Angel was honestly grateful for that. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to keep his promise to Giles; Spike tended to bring out the worst in him.

 

Or he had a hundred years ago.

 

If he had known where to find Spike or Buffy, Angel might have paid them a visit first, but Giles was the only one he knew how to locate right away. He parked in front of Giles’ apartment, walking up to the door slowly. He still felt a pang of guilt every time he thought of what he’d done to the man.

 

No matter how hard he tried to put the past behind him, Angelus was never far away—as he’d recently rediscovered when Rebecca Lowell slipped him a happy pill.

 

Angel knocked on the door, wondering what kind of reception he was going to receive. Giles hadn’t sounded pleased that he was coming to town, and Giles had chased him off quickly when he’d been in Sunnydale over Thanksgiving.

 

The expression on Giles’ face didn’t allay his nerves. “Angel.”

 

Angel suppressed a sigh. “Giles. Do you mind if I come in?”

 

“Will you behave yourself?”

 

“Yes.” Angel could smell Buffy and another familiar scent that he suspected belonged to Spike.

 

Giles stepped aside. “Faith’s awake, but we haven’t been able to locate her as of yet.”

 

Angel could see Buffy sitting next to Spike on the couch. She rose as he entered, her hand on Spike’s shoulder. “Angel.”

 

He could hear it in her voice. Buffy wasn’t the same girl he’d seen just a few months before, when he’d left Sunnydale. She didn’t look at him the way she had—as though she’d loved him. “What happened?” he asked hoarsely. “Buffy—”

 

Spike stood and turned to face him, and Angel took a step back. “You—when did you get your soul? Who cursed you?”

 

“Wasn’t a curse,” Spike growled. “I _asked_ for it.”

 

“ _Why_?” Angel asked, hardly able to believe it. “What possessed you?”

 

“He did it for me, Angel.” Buffy’s face softened, and she looked at him compassionately. “Maybe you should sit down. We’ve got a lot to go over.”

 

Angel listened to Buffy tell her story, hardly able to believe it. He knew she was leaving out a lot of details, but they didn’t have a lot of time. “You came back in time,” he finally said when she fell silent.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“To fix things.”

 

“That’s right,” she said evenly.

 

Angel fixed Spike with a stare. “And you wanted to come back with her?”

 

“I had to.”

 

Angel shook his head, trying to process what was being said. “Do you know what happened to me?”

 

“As far as I know, you were still in L.A. doing your detective thing,” Buffy replied. “We hadn’t talked in a while when we made the decision to do the spell.”

 

“And you died?”

 

“Willow brought me back.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “I know this is a lot to take in, Angel, but it’s all true.” Buffy glanced at Spike, and Angel could see the muscle in his jaw working. He could appreciate the level of control the other vampire was demonstrating. “I know it seems like we saw each other months ago, but it’s been years for me. I’m with Spike now.”

 

He stared at the floor. What he wanted was to attack the other vampire, to tell him that he wasn’t worthy of Buffy—but was he any worthier than Spike? At this point, Spike’s soul was anchored at least, and she’d told him enough that Angel knew a normal life—the one he’d wanted for her—wasn’t in the cards.

 

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. “It’s a lot to take in.”

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Spike muttered, and Angel could hear the defensiveness in his tone. Spike clearly expected an attack, and it was that, more than anything else, that decided him.

 

“What do you want me to do?” Angel asked Buffy, deciding to ignore Spike for the time being.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. Cordelia was the one who got the vision. Tara saw—”

 

“Tara?” Angel asked, interrupting her.

 

“A friend,” Buffy explained.

 

Giles stepped in. “It’s clear that we’re going to need Faith in our fight against the Initiative and Adam,” he said. “Their interest in both Buffy and Spike is worrisome.”

 

“I’ll do what I can.” Angel stood. “I should get going. Do you want me to meet you tomorrow night, Buffy? We can start looking for Faith then.”

 

She nodded. “That would be good.”

 

Angel left then, unable to be in the same room with her for one moment more. It was clear that the girl he’d known was gone, and the woman in her place was a stranger to him.

 

Worse than that… “Spike!” Angel muttered to himself as he got into his car. “Why _Spike_?”

 

~~~~~

 

“I wonder where he’s going to stay,” Buffy mused as soon as Angel had left.

 

“Who cares?” Spike muttered.

 

“We’re going to need his help, Spike,” Giles said sharply. “You could show a little courtesy.”

 

Buffy stepped in before a fight could break out. “It’s okay, Giles. We should probably get some rest. We have no way of knowing whether Faith is going to turn up tomorrow on campus.” She gave Spike a look to tell him to behave. “Let’s go.”

 

Spike followed her docilely enough, but once they were outside, the gloves came off. “So, are you going to tell me I was rude?”

 

“No, I thought you were pretty civil under the circumstances,” Buffy said mildly. She raised an eyebrow. “Were you trying to be rude?”

 

Spike shrugged. “If I had tried, you’d know.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” Buffy reached for his hand. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m with you, Spike? I was over Angel a long time ago.”

 

“You still love him.”

 

“Do you still love Drusilla?”

 

There was a long moment of silence. “Point.”

 

“That’s what I thought.” She paused. “Are we going back to your place?”

 

“Do you want to?”

 

“I think I’d prefer it.”

 

“Then that’s where we’ll go.”

 

They walked along in silence. Buffy was unable to truly enjoy the night since she was on edge, waiting for the soldiers to appear out of nowhere. After what Ethan Rayne had said, she knew that the soldiers who had attacked her hadn’t made a mistake. They’d wanted the Slayer, although how they’d known her identity was anybody’s guess.

 

Buffy had thought she would be anonymous at college, but it turned out that wasn’t quite true. Then or now.

 

“You ever—” Spike began, then stopped abruptly. “Never mind.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

“Don’t do that,” Buffy said fiercely. “We don’t keep things from each other, Spike. I thought we were past that.”

 

“You ever wish he’d been the one to get his soul anchored?” Spike asked gruffly.

 

Buffy knew that he wanted the truth, no matter how much it might hurt. The funny thing was that it wouldn’t hurt; it was probably an answer he didn’t expect. “No,” she said simply.

 

Spike looked at her sharply as they approached his apartment building. “No?”

 

“No.” Buffy smiled. “You’re the right one for me, Spike. If you had never come along… Who knows what might have happened? But you’re the right one, right now. You don’t give up, and I need someone with that kind of strength. Everyone else I’ve ever known has given up on me.”

 

“Oh.” His voice was very small, and she could see the wonder in his eyes. Buffy suspected that Spike had believed that everything would change once she’d seen Angel.

 

What Spike didn’t understand—and what Angel would probably never understand—was that they had already said their goodbyes. Buffy had gone to him after her resurrection in the hope that he would make her feel better. She’d thought that Angel’s presence would bring her the comfort she couldn’t find anywhere else, as he had after her mother’s death.

 

How could she have known that comfort was so close?

 

~~~~~

 

Spike woke slowly, feeling the warmth of Buffy’s skin, her hair tickling his bare chest. She’d fallen asleep with her head resting on his shoulder, her arm across his waist. He felt a sense of wonder.

 

Here he was with the girl and the Gem of Amara, his soul anchored—Spike had everything he could have wanted, and Angel didn’t.

 

It was the first time in his life that Spike felt as though he’d come out the unequivocal winner.

 

“Mmm,” Buffy murmured sleepily. “What time is it?”

 

He glanced over at the clock. “’Round eight. You have class today.”

 

“I know.” She sighed. “Drive me?”

 

“Absolutely.” Spike looked at her, concerned. “You think Faith will come after you on campus today?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “I feel like I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

 

“Hard to know anything,” he agreed.

 

They lay in comfortable silence, Spike rubbing absent-minded circles on her back. “Are you going to go see Angel today?” Buffy asked.

 

“Don’t know where he’s staying,” Spike replied. “And why would I want to?”

 

“To rub his face in the fact that you can go out in the sunshine?” she said. Buffy propped herself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you hadn’t considered that.”

 

“Was just considering it now.” Spike snorted. “Peaches destroyed the ring the first time around, probably out of some misguided need to be a bloody martyr.”

 

He could see her trying to suppress a smile, and failing miserably. “How come you don’t feel some ‘misguided need to be a bloody martyr?’”

 

“Because I’ve got everything I could ever want right here, and I paid my dues.” Spike stared into her eyes. “Paid for this soul with sweat and blood, Buffy. Maybe it doesn’t fix everything, but there’s no sense in wallowing in guilt for the next hundred years.”

 

Buffy smiled and smoothed his hair. “I’m glad you decided not to wallow. It’s not a good look on you.”

 

Spike pulled her head down for a long kiss. “You’d better get cleaned up, luv. I’ll give you a ride over to campus.”

 

Of course, Spike had no intention of leaving her alone—not with both the Initiative and Faith to worry about.

 

~~~~~

 

Faith wanted to find Buffy; she wanted to know if the note that the other Slayer had left was for real. She’d spent the night in an empty house—whether it was abandoned or the owners were simply away for the evening, she hadn’t cared.

 

It was safe and warm, and that was all she’d wanted.

 

Now Faith was wandering the college campus. Clearly, Buffy had graduated from high school, and she’d heard through the grapevine that the other Slayer had been planning on going to college. Although she wasn’t sure what she wanted from Buffy, she knew that she had to see her.

 

There was a part of Faith that wanted to hurt Buffy, to strip everything away as Buffy had done to her. There was another part that was curious about the note, and the insinuations that a lot had gone on. She’d never expected an apology, and that softened her anger—at least a little bit.

 

Faith figured that she wouldn’t know which part of her would win until she actually saw the other Slayer.

 

She caught sight of a girl with long, blonde hair walking next to a redhead. Faith sped up to keep pace, wanting to shadow them for a while, to see what Buffy would do, where she would go. It was easy to lose herself in the crowd, to look like one more college freshman, even though she never would be.

 

This was a foreign world, where she didn’t belong.

 

Buffy stopped by a bulletin board, and Faith could see her talking with Willow. She edged closer, wanting to get close enough to hear what they were saying. Faith could just make out something about “Spike,” a name she felt she should recognize but didn’t.

 

Suddenly, Faith felt the tingle that told her a vampire was close, although it seemed impossible. It was broad daylight.

 

A deep voice came from behind her. “You know, it’s not very nice to eavesdrop.” Faith whirled to see a lean, bleached blond man standing there, wearing all black. He gave her a toothy grin. “Don’t tell me. You’re Faith.”

 

Faith knew that she was in some serious trouble. Any vampire who could withstand sunlight was unlikely to be fazed by a Slayer. She decided that it was time to run. She’d catch up with Buffy some other time, and in some other way.


	25. Point of No Return

Spike cursed when she started running, knowing that he didn’t have much chance of catching her, not when she didn’t know him, and had no reason to trust him. He wished he knew why she’d been following Buffy, though.

 

“Let’s go,” Buffy said, sprinting past him.

 

Spike realized that she must have seen his confrontation with Faith, and he raced to catch up. He couldn’t see Faith, but he assumed that Buffy knew where she was heading, or at least had some idea. He was only a few feet behind his girlfriend when he rounded the corner of a building to see her on the ground.

 

“Buffy!” Spike skidded to a stop, giving the other man a dirty look. “Are you alright?”

 

“I just ran into Graham,” she said, scrambling to her feet and looking around for Faith.

 

Spike realized that they’d already lost the other Slayer, so he focused on the soldier. Spike recognized him from the patrol he’d run into after killing the Vahrall demons. “You okay?” he asked gruffly, not caring, but not wanting to blow their cover.

 

Graham was staring at Buffy’s face. “You—”

 

“What about her?” Spike asked, stepping in front of her. “You got a problem?”

 

“Spike, it’s okay.” Buffy laid a gentle hand on his arm. “I’m sure Graham didn’t mean to get in the way.”

 

Graham looked troubled. “No, I didn’t. It was an accident.”

 

Buffy smiled tightly and nodded. “Right. That’s been going around a lot lately.”

 

Spike wondered what was going through the man’s mind as he watched Buffy; he also wondered what his orders were as far as the Slayer was concerned. Ethan Rayne had indicated that Walsh knew about the Slayer—or at least had her suspicions.

 

Last time, Walsh had tried to have Buffy killed, because she’d viewed the Slayer as a threat. This time? Spike was afraid the doctor had other plans entirely.

 

Buffy was tugging him away. “We’d better get going.”

 

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to be late,” Spike agreed. Once they were out of earshot, he asked, “What was that about?”

 

“I turned the corner and ran right into him,” Buffy whispered. She hesitated, then asked, “Do you think we should talk to him?”

 

“About what?” Spike demanded. “He’s one of _them_.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but he was probably the most decent, not including Riley. We’re going to need information, Spike. When—or if—Adam makes an appearance, there are going to be decisions to make about how to shut down the Initiative.”

 

Spike knew she had a point. He didn’t like the idea, since it meant that at least one of the soldiers would have to be told about them, or about Buffy anyway. At the same time, they needed the help, and a little inside information.

 

“He doesn’t know you,” Spike pointed out. “How are you going to get him to trust you?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess if we both end up fighting Adam, he’ll know we’re on the same side. At least in theory.”

 

Spike refrained from commenting; he wasn’t quite as hopeful about getting the soldier on their side as Buffy was.

 

~~~~~

 

Angel stared into space as he waited for the last rays of the sun to disappear below the horizon. He hadn’t slept much; he’d been too busy thinking about what Buffy had told him. She hadn’t kept in close contact with him, so she didn’t know much about his own future.

 

It was still hard for him to believe that she was with Spike—it was hard to believe that Spike was the same vampire Drusilla had turned so many years ago.

 

No, that wasn’t true, he realized. Spike hadn’t really changed all that much, considering that he had a soul now. Spike _had_ changed enough to have everything that Angel had once wanted—a soul that couldn’t be displaced, a solid relationship with Buffy, the ability to walk in the sun, and an all-consuming purpose.

 

Angel rose from the couch, stepping out into the courtyard. The old mansion hadn’t changed much in the last few months. He hadn’t yet sold it, mostly because he’d thought that he might come back some day, that eventually he and Buffy would find a way to be together.

 

He knew that it was a false hope now.

 

As the last of the sunlight faded, Angel began walking towards his car. He’d called Giles earlier on his cell phone to let him know that he’d be by, and Angel hoped to catch him alone. He wanted the Watcher’s opinion on Buffy, and how she was doing.

 

When he knocked on the door, Giles opened it almost immediately. “Angel.”

 

“Giles.”

 

Giles stepped aside, saying, “Spike and Buffy saw Faith on campus earlier, although she ran when Spike confronted her. We aren’t sure where she might go tonight.”

 

Angel frowned. “The Bronze? Faith always did like to blow off a little steam.”

 

Giles nodded. “I think that Spike and Buffy were going to swing by on their way over here, although that’s not to say that Faith won’t turn up later tonight. We have another problem, however, one that didn’t get mentioned last night.”

 

“What’s that?” Angel had no idea what else they might face on top of a rogue Slayer and some sort of demonic cyborg.

 

“The Council was here earlier,” Giles explained. “They plan on taking Faith back to England for rehabilitation, but from what Buffy has said, I believe they will try to kill her.”

 

Angel’s eyes widened. “She’s the Slayer!”

 

“She also stands in the way of having a new Slayer, one that may be more—” Giles paused, searching for the right word. “—malleable.”

 

Angel had to acknowledge the point. Faith was anything but “malleable.” “Is there anything else I should be on the look out for?”

 

Giles shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

 

“You can ask.”

 

Giles’ even tone gave nothing away, so Angel forged ahead. Buffy might have moved on, but she’d had the luxury of time, which he hadn’t. He needed to know that she was okay. “How is she?”

 

Giles clearly knew who he was talking about, and he took a deep breath. “This whole thing weighs on her,” he admitted. “There is always pressure on the Slayer to save others, to stop bad things from happening, but I think that Buffy had accepted that it wasn’t always possible.”

 

“She has an even better chance at stopping those bad things from happening now,” Angel said, puzzled.

 

Giles shook his head. “Perhaps, but she _knows_ who’s going to die, who’s going to be hurt. Buffy knows what’s going to happen to her friends and family. There are events that can be altered, but change is not always possible.”

 

“And Spike?” Angel asked. “He didn’t seem that different, but—”

 

“He’s changed,” Giles assured him. “More than that—he and Buffy have a connection that none of us fully understand. At some point, Spike became the only person she felt she could trust, and some of that feeling has carried over.”

 

Angel didn’t understand how anyone could trust _Spike_ at all, but there was a lot he didn’t understand about the situation. All he could do was offer Buffy whatever help he could provide and keep an eye on the other vampire.

 

Buffy might believe that Spike had changed, but Angel wanted to see the proof with his own eyes.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike wasn’t thrilled at the idea of wandering Sunnydale with Angel in tow. No matter what Buffy said, or how she tried to reassure him, Spike knew that Angel at least was living in the past, where he and Buffy were soul mates.

 

As far as Spike could tell, it didn’t really matter what they _had_ been; it only mattered that she was with him now. Knowing Angel, however, Spike didn’t have much hope that he would accept it easily.

 

“Where are we going?” Angel asked.

 

“I have no idea,” Buffy admitted. “I would have asked Willow to do a locator spell, but we don’t have anything of Faith’s to use.”

 

“Maybe we should split up,” Angel suggested. “We would cover more ground that way.”

 

“And if we run into the Initiative?” Spike asked, an edge to his tone. “It’s not just Faith we have to watch out for.”

 

“They won’t know you’re a vampire unless you bite someone,” Angel shot back. “On second thought, maybe someone _should_ go with you.”

 

“Angel, stop it,” Buffy snapped. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “If you can’t be civil to Spike, then you can leave. And, Spike—” She glared at him. “Be nice.”

 

“I am being nice!” he protested.

 

Buffy gave him a look that said she knew otherwise. “Come on. Faith tends to like action, so maybe she’ll be where all the people are.”

 

Several hours later, after wandering through Sunnydale’s more populated areas, Spike was beginning to think that Faith had left town—or gone to ground. If it hadn’t been for Tara’s vision, Spike would have suggested that they let her go. At least Angel had subsided into sullen silence, which was a damn sight better than the big git making snide comments.

 

“Wait.” Angel stopped.

 

“What?” Buffy asked.

 

He shook his head. “I thought I caught her scent.”

 

Spike frowned. He’d never been close enough to Faith to pick up her scent. “Where is she going?”

 

“I don’t know.” Angel sounded frustrated. “Give me a minute.”

 

Spike was forcibly reminded of the time he’d fought with Buffy and Angel. It seemed a lifetime ago, but only a year had passed according to the calendar. The three of them had been pretty successful, considering that they’d been enemies at the time. It was that memory that allowed him to keep quiet—that and the knowledge that Buffy wouldn’t be pleased if he antagonized Angel.

 

“This way,” Angel finally said.

 

Spike wasn’t happy about it, but he followed Angel closely. The fact that Peaches was leading the way was made palatable by Buffy’s presence by his side. Barely.

 

Angel moved towards the docks, and he wondered whether Faith was going to try to jump a ship; Spike had thought she’d take a train or steal a car. He hadn’t thought of her taking a slow boat to nowhere.

 

The trail led past the docks, however, and Angel kept moving. Spike realized that they were heading towards the edge of town, and he wondered what Faith could possibly be up to. Industrial businesses and warehouses gave way to scraggly grass and trees, which soon turned into a thickly forested area.

 

They hadn’t gone very far when the sounds of a scuffle could be heard. All three of them picked up the pace, heading towards the sound.

 

Faith stood in a clearing, fighting a green demon that Spike didn’t recognize. He could smell the blood—human blood—but he didn’t think it was hers.

 

Angel opened his mouth to call out, but Buffy put a hand on his arm, shaking her head. “Don’t interrupt her concentration. She’s almost got it.”

 

Spike figured that Buffy would know, since she’d been a Slayer longer than anyone else. Faith finished the demon off moments later, knocking it to the ground and stepping on its neck until a sharp cracking sound could be heard.

 

“Faith!” Buffy called, as soon as the demon was dead.

 

Faith’s head shot up, and her eyes widened as Buffy emerged from the trees. She looked around wildly. “I don’t have anything to say to you, B.”

 

“We need your help,” Buffy said. “Look, Faith, I’m sorry for everything that happened, but if you keep going like this, you’re going to wind up in jail.”

 

“What else is new?” Faith sneered. “I’ve always known I’d come to a bad end.”

 

Angel stepped out behind Buffy. “You don’t want that, though. Do you, Faith?”

 

“You don’t know what the hell I want!” Faith shot back. “You and Buffy can just—”

 

Spike saw the massive creature emerge from the trees. He cursed, wishing that he hadn’t missed Adam’s approach. “Buffy! Look out!”

 

Both she and Faith whirled to look at the newest danger. Buffy cursed inventively. “Faith, be careful. Adam eats Slayers for breakfast.”

 

“You’ve seen this thing before?” Faith demanded, backing up, away from the cyborg.

 

Spike was distracted for a moment. He could sense the approach of others—humans, as far as he could tell. His attention was pulled back to the fight at hand when he heard Buffy shout to Angel. “Get Faith out of here, Angel! Spike and I will meet you later.”

 

Spike rushed out of hiding, cursing Buffy’s hero complex. “I think it might be time for all of us to run, luv.”

 

“I have to make sure he doesn’t kill anybody else,” Buffy said grimly. “I have to try.” She turned her head. “Faith, go. Trust Angel. The Council is after you.”

 

Faith looked torn, and Spike couldn’t blame her. He understood why she might doubt Buffy’s motivations after everything that had gone on between the two of them. “Buffy—”

 

“Go!” Buffy shouted.

 

Adam moved too quickly. Spike hadn’t remembered that he could move with such speed for something so large, and cobbled together from bits and pieces. The spike came out of Adam’s arm, and in that brief instant, he recognized it as the part of a Polgara demon.

 

Time seemed to slow, and Spike made a belated attempt to put himself between Adam and the Slayer. The sharp bone pierced her abdomen, and Spike let out a wordless howl. “NO!”

 

He leapt forward as Buffy slid off the spike into his arms. “Spike!” Angel called.

 

Spike gathered his wits about him. “Get Faith!” he called, catching a glimpse of the fleeing Slayer out of the corner of his eye. “The Council will kill her if they get their hands on her!”

 

Angel hesitated for a brief moment, then turned to run.

 

With Buffy still in his arms, Spike backed off from the cyborg. “Stay away from her,” he said in a low voice. “Or you’ll wish you’d never been created.”

 

“You have no power over me,” Adam said, giving Spike a grotesque mockery of a smile. “And my mother is dead.”

 

Spike wasn’t sorry to hear that, but he still wasn’t sure how he was going to get Buffy to a hospital. The ring helped, but he wasn’t sure that even the power from the Gem would be enough to defeat Adam.

 

He saw the electricity arc out from behind a bush, hitting Adam square in the chest. “Go!” a man’s voice called. “I’ll hold him here.”

 

“That won’t do anything,” Spike warned.

 

“It doesn’t have to.” The young man Buffy had run into earlier stepped out of the brush, Initiative-issue blaster rifle in his hands. “I just need to buy you the time to get her to the hospital.” He met Spike’s eyes evenly. “I’ll catch up later.”

 

Spike didn’t need to be told twice. There was no way he was going to allow Buffy to bleed to death in his arms.

 

~~~~~

 

Faith couldn’t believe she’d run. The monster she’d faced had been unlike anything she’d ever seen before, though, and she knew she couldn’t stick around to let Buffy get to her.

 

There was no way Buffy wanted to help, not after what had happened. More than likely, it was a trap of some kind.

 

She could hear Angel’s voice behind her, and she shut out any though of going back. The vampire had been halfway decent to her, but that had been before she’d poisoned him.

 

Faith hit the open ground of a park; the absence of branches whipping her face was the first clue, and she wished she’d boarded the first boat leaving when she’d had the chance. Once the demon grabbed the girl and started chewing on her, however, Faith had decided to step in. She didn’t even know why, but now she was paying for it.

 

That’s what she got for doing the right thing.

 

She slowed down enough to look around her, trying to figure out where to go next. Faith thought that getting out of Sunnydale might be her best bet. It wasn’t like Buffy had been there for her when she’d needed help.

 

Faith deliberately silenced the little voice that told her that Buffy had done the best she could.

 

If it wasn’t going to be a boat, Faith decided that the train yards were her next stop. She started jogging again, glancing quickly to her right and left before crossing the street.

 

The armored car seemed to come out of nowhere, and Faith could hear the squeal of brakes. The heavy vehicle didn’t stop quite fast enough, however, and the bumper hit her legs hard enough to send her sprawling on the asphalt.

 

Angry and hurt, Faith pushed herself up, staggering a little bit. “What the—” She stopped when she saw the muzzle of the gun right in front of her eyes.

 

“Get in.” Only two words, but Faith caught the traces of a British accent.

 

“What if I refuse?” she asked.

 

The man smiled coldly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“You’re not going to shoot me,” Faith argued.

 

“No,” the man agreed. “But you won’t like the other option.”

 

Faith didn’t get a chance to ask him what that other option might be. Something hard and heavy hit her from behind, and darkness overtook her.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow opened the door to let Tara inside. “Is everything okay?”

 

Tara hesitated before nodding. “I think so.”

 

“What’s wrong?” Willow pressed, hearing a note of anxiety in Tara’s voice.

 

“It’s just that—” Tara stopped.

 

Willow led her to the bed, sitting her down, and then settling next to her. “What is it, Tara?”

 

“I tried to see into the future again,” Tara began.

 

Willow frowned. She didn’t like the sound of that; she’d had her own experiences with peering into the future. “What did you see?”

 

Tara shook her head. “Nothing. It’s not important. I just—I needed to not be alone.”

 

Willow wanted to ask what it was she’d seen; Tara was obviously shaken, but she knew the other girl well enough to know that Tara would pass along any information that would help. “Okay. Do you want to get a cup of tea?”

 

“I’d like that,” she replied.

 

Willow laid a hand on her arm. “You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever you saw, we’ll deal with it.”

 

Tara stared at the floor for a long moment. “My family is going to come for me, and I don’t know if I’ll have the strength to stay.”

 

Willow frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“There’s—” Tara swallowed audibly. “My mom was part demon.”

 

Willow frowned. “Okay.” When Tara seemed to be waiting for more of a response, she said, “So?”

 

The other girl’s face flushed with shame. “The demon—it comes out on a girl’s twentieth birthday.”

 

Willow still wasn’t getting it. “I don’t know what the problem is.”

 

“I’m going to turn twenty this year.”

 

“Oh.” Willow frowned. “Who had a demon?”

 

“My mother. It runs in the family. All the women—”

 

Willow held up a hand. “Didn’t you tell me that your mom was the one who taught you about magic?”

 

Tara stopped. “Yes, but—”

 

“Was she evil?”

 

“No!” Tara sounded aghast at the thought. “Not at all!”

 

“Then why would you be evil?” Willow shook her head. “And even if you are a demon, who cares? Spike’s a vampire; so is Angel. Buffy is the Slayer, so she’s not entirely human. Oz is a werewolf. Nobody is going to care, Tara, not unless you actually turn evil, and that doesn’t seem likely.”

 

Tara blinked away the tears rapidly. “You really think so?”

 

“I really do.” Willow reached for her hand, wanting to offer her comfort any way she could. “Did you see yourself going back with them?”

 

“I don’t know. I just know that they’re going to find me.” Tara met her eyes. “I can’t go back, Willow.”

 

“Then you won’t,” Willow said firmly. “We’ll make sure of it.”

 

Willow wasn’t sure how, but she was sure they could manage.


	26. A Matter of Life and Death

Angel followed Faith’s scent, trying to catch up with the other Slayer. He’d been torn, not wanting to leave Buffy with Spike, but there was no choice. Spike certainly wasn’t going to be dissuaded from taking Buffy to the hospital, and that left him to chase Faith down.

 

Her scent was easy to trace through the woods; there clearly hadn’t been any other humans coming through the area in a while, and Angel tracked Faith through a park and to the street, where the trail abruptly ended.

 

Frowning, Angel knelt on the pavement, touching his fingers to the dark stains. Faith had bled, and he could see tire marks, probably where someone had driven away in a hurry, but there were no other signs of her presence. He rose, looking both ways down the street, knowing that there was no way to trace her at the moment. Her scent was gone.

 

Angel had a feeling that someone had grabbed her.

 

With a regretful sigh, Angel began to jog towards the hospital. If he couldn’t track Faith, he would check on Buffy.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike paced the length of the hospital waiting room. The doctors had immediately taken Buffy back for surgery, and he wondered what they thought of her injuries. First a broken arm, and now a puncture wound—it probably appeared suspicious.

 

Joyce came running through the doors. “Spike!”

 

“Joyce.” He turned to face her, enfolding her in his arms when she walked right into him. “She’s going to be fine.”

 

“Have the doctors talked to you, yet?”

 

Spike swallowed. The doctors hadn’t talked to him, but he knew Buffy, and she was a fighter. They hadn’t come this far for her to be taken out by a hunk of pieced-together machinery. “Not yet, but you know Buffy. Stubborn as the day is long.”

 

She clung to him for a moment, then pulled away. He could hear her taking a deep breath, visibly pulling herself together. “Yes, she is. Where is the doctor?”

 

“Said he’d be out to talk to us as soon as he could,” Spike replied, guiding her to a chair. “I called Rupert, and he should be here—”

 

His words were cut off by the Watcher’s entrance. “Spike! Where is she?”

 

“Still in surgery,” Spike said. “The doc said he thought she would pull through, but he wasn’t sure if anything vital got hit.”

 

Giles frowned. “How did this happen?”

 

The words stung, and Spike took a second to calm himself. It only made sense that Giles would blame him.

 

Joyce put her hand on his arm. “This wasn’t your fault, Spike.”

 

“You haven’t heard what happened yet,” Spike countered ruefully.

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Yes, but I think it’s unlikely that you are responsible for Buffy’s injuries. I didn’t mean my question in that way.”

 

Spike nodded. “Yeah, well—took all of us by surprise. We were chasing down Faith, and we ran right into Adam. Or he ran into us. Said his ‘mother’ was dead, and Buffy confronted Faith. Told her to trust Angel and to not let the Council get her.” He sighed. “Dunno what happened, really. Buffy said she wasn’t going to let Adam hurt anybody else, and then Adam…”

 

He didn’t know what else to say. The image of Buffy impaled on the cyborg’s hidden spike would be forever imprinted on his mind.

 

“And Faith and Angel?”

 

“Sent Angel after Faith; she ran when she saw what happened. One of those soldiers came out of nowhere, said he’d hold off Adam while I got Buffy to a hospital.” Spike shook his head. “Dunno why, if he doesn’t think she’s human.”

 

“There may be more soldiers like Riley in the Initiative,” Giles pointed out.

 

“Don’t think he would have been so helpful if he’d known what I was,” Spike said stubbornly.

 

Any argument that Giles might have made was cut off by the doctor’s entrance into the waiting room. “Mr. Aldridge?”

 

“Yes?” Spike said, rising from his seat. “This is Buffy’s mother.” He put his hand on Joyce’s shoulder. “How is she?”

 

“She’ll make a full recovery,” the doctor assured him. “At first we thought that Miss Summers’ spleen might have been damaged, but everything seems to be fine. It’s a miracle, but none of her vital organs were hit.”

 

Joyce sagged in relief beneath his hand, and Spike squeezed her shoulder in support. He felt a little weak-kneed himself. “When can we see her?” Joyce asked.

 

“They’re moving her into recovery now.” The doctor smiled distractedly and looked at the clock. “Forgive me, but I have another surgery scheduled. Miss Summers should probably rest tonight, but you can see her in the morning.”

 

There was no way Spike was going to leave the hospital without having seen Buffy first, and he said as much, although he waited until the doctor was out of earshot.

 

“I’d like to see her as well,” Joyce agreed. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I do.”

 

Spike nodded, then looked at Giles. “That soldier said he’d find us later. Don’t know whether that was a promise or a threat.”

 

“Probably a promise, given the context,” Giles replied. “I can hardly believe that he’d attempt to kill you after saving your life. There’s no reason for him to think that you’re a vampire.”

 

Spike nodded. “Can’t help but wonder where he’s going to show up, though. Here, or somewhere else. Or what he wants.”

 

The discussion was cut off by Angel’s entrance into the waiting room. “Where is she?”

 

“Where’s Faith?” Spike countered. “You were supposed to go after her.”

 

“Someone grabbed her, I think,” Angel replied. “I found blood and tire tracks, but no other traces, and the trail went dead.”

 

“The Council,” Giles guessed. “If Buffy was right—”

 

“If she was right, we don’t know how long Faith is going to have,” Spike finished grimly.

 

Angel frowned. “I know, but how is Buffy?”

 

“She’ll be fine, Angel,” Joyce said, and Spike caught the edge of disapproval in her tone. For some reason, that gave him a great deal of pleasure. “There’s nothing you can do here.”

 

For some reason, Spike felt just a little bit sorry for the git. Joyce was a formidable opponent, and he hated to think of what he might have done if she’d decided to come out against his relationship with Buffy. Maybe Buffy would have stood up to her mother, but with the distinct possibility of Joyce’s death in the near future, he was glad that wasn’t a risk he needed to take.

 

“She’s in recovery,” Spike added. “We’re gonna have to find Faith. If Buffy was right, the Council’s going to try and kill her soon. Last time, Buffy got away; we don’t know if Faith’ll be able to do the same.”

 

Angel nodded. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow?”

 

“Say around six?” Spike suggested. “You won’t be able to do much until the sun’s gone down.”

 

Angel grimaced, but agreed, melting into the shadows. “That was quite the civil conversation,” Giles commented.

 

Spike’s eyes remained fixed on the spot where Angel had disappeared. “We want the same thing right now. And Buffy’s already made her choice. Maybe he hasn’t accepted that yet, but he’ll come around. If he doesn’t, it doesn’t really matter.” He didn’t elaborate, but what it boiled down to was that it didn’t matter because Buffy had already made her choice known.

 

And Spike couldn’t ask for more than that.

 

~~~~~

 

Joyce entered Buffy’s room quietly, not wanting to disturb Spike. He’d prevailed upon her to go home and get some rest, although he’d refused to do the same. She couldn’t help but wish that she’d had someone as devoted to her as Spike was to Buffy.

 

Although it seemed a little silly to be jealous of her own daughter.

 

In spite of her attempt to enter silently, Spike stirred in the chair, opening his eyes slowly. “Did you sleep?” he asked.

 

“For a few hours,” she replied. “How is she?”

 

Spike shook his head. “She hasn’t woken up yet.” He glanced at the clock. “I still have some time before Angel gets here, though.”

 

Joyce was about to ask him what exactly Angel was doing in town when a nurse stuck her head through the door. “Excuse me, but there’s a young man at the nurse’s station asking to speak with you.”

 

She looked at Spike as she said it, and he frowned. “Me? Did he say what he wanted?”

 

The young nurse shook her head. “He just said that he wanted to speak with Miss Summers’ boyfriend, and that it was important.”

 

Spike rose. “I’ll let you sit down, Joyce, and go see what he wants.”

 

Joyce decided that there was no point in protesting. She sat down in the vacated chair and reached for her daughter’s hand. Buffy was still and pale against the white sheets, and even though she knew that being the Slayer afforded her some measure of strength, and the ability to heal faster than most, the worry still ate at her.

 

After a second or two, Buffy’s eyelids began to flutter. “Buffy?” Joyce said softly. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

 

Buffy opened her eyes. “Mommy?”

 

“That’s right,” Joyce crooned. She’d had her appendix removed when she was about Buffy’s age, and she remembered what the after-effects of the anesthesia had done. The disorientation and slightly sick feeling had frightened her at the time, and Joyce thought that Buffy might be going through something similar. “You’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be okay.”

 

It took a moment for the import behind her words to sink in, but when they did, Buffy groaned. “Too many hospitals,” she muttered hoarsely.

 

“Do you want something to drink?” Joyce asked.

 

“Please.”

 

She grabbed the glass by the side of the bed, and allowed Buffy to take a few sips from the straw. “That’s enough,” she said, pulling the glass away. “I don’t want to overdo it right now.”

 

Buffy nodded, although she didn’t look happy about it. “Where’s Spike?”

 

“He’s here,” Joyce replied. “There was someone at the nurse’s station looking for him, so he went to see what they wanted.”

 

Buffy frowned. “What happened?”

 

“Spike said that Adam hurt you?” Joyce wasn’t sure she had the right name, but when Buffy nodded, she continued. “Apparently, one of those soldiers held the creature off long enough for him to get away, and Angel went after Faith.”

 

“And Faith?” Buffy asked.

 

Joyce shook her head. “Angel didn’t know where she was, but he thought the Council might have her.” There was something that she didn’t understand, but Joyce didn’t want to tire Buffy out with questions.

 

“What is it, Mom?” Buffy asked, beginning to sound more alert already.

 

“Why would the Council want to hurt Faith?” she asked. “I thought they were supposed to help Slayers.”

 

“That’s only when the Slayer does exactly what she’s told,” Spike said from the doorway. “Isn’t that right, pet?”

 

“Pretty much,” Buffy agreed, her eyes on him. “Are you okay?”

 

“Just fine,” he promised. “Got the ring, don’t I? It’s too bad we can’t find one that would do the same for you.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” Buffy said. “It doesn’t even hurt that much.” She tried to push herself into a sitting position, as if to prove it, but immediately sank back onto the bed. “Okay, maybe I’ll just lay here for a minute.”

 

“Longer than that,” Spike said. He hesitated. “That soldier—Graham, was it?—was at the nurse’s station, wanting to know if you were alright. Think he knows that you’re not quite human, but it doesn’t seem like he cares.”

 

“He was always nice to me,” Buffy said.

 

Joyce looked at Spike. “Is it okay that he knows Buffy is here?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Seems like Adam killed the Professor, just like last time. Guess she never was going to get complete control. They’ll have their hands full with him, and the soldiers aren’t interested in tracking down a Slayer.” He hesitated, then added, “Although, he did suggest we work together. Think he’s operating under a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. He won’t ask what we are, and we’ll just not tell him.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Buffy said. She reached for Spike’s hand. “You have to find Faith, Spike. If they took her to the same place, they’re in an empty warehouse in the industrial part of town. I don’t remember exactly where, though.”

 

Spike frowned. “Angel’s coming by later. We’ll go there first.”

 

“I don’t know if you have that much time,” Buffy replied urgently. “They didn’t have me for that long before they decided it would be easier if Faith were dead.”

 

Spike shook his head. “I don’t want to leave you. Thought Angel could—”

 

“This is important.” Joyce knew that look; it was the same one Buffy had used on her any number of times. She’d grown immune to Buffy’s large, imploring eyes, but it was clear that Spike hadn’t. “I want to know that I’ve done everything I can to help her, and if I can’t go—”

 

“I’m the next best thing?” Spike asked ruefully. He chuckled, although there was little humor in the sound. “Never could say no to you, could I?”

 

“I think you can reach her, Spike. I believe in you.”

 

Joyce knew that they’d both forgotten her presence. Spike’s gaze caught Buffy’s and held; the feeling humming between them was almost tangible.

 

He finally nodded. “I’ll see you later, luv.”

 

“Be careful.” Buffy smiled at him, a little uncertainly.

 

Spike just bent to kiss her, his free hand cupping her face gently. “As always. Love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” Buffy’s eyes followed him out the door, and she sighed wistfully when he was gone.

 

“He will be back,” Joyce said, not quite understanding the sudden melancholy mood.

 

“I know,” Buffy murmured. “It’s just that I don’t know how many more times I can ask him for something like this without hurting him.”

 

“He’d do anything for you, Buffy,” Joyce observed.

 

Buffy looked at her mother, and Joyce didn’t understand the grief she saw in her eyes. “I know, Mom. That’s the problem.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike hadn’t fully understood what having a soul would mean. He’d done it for Buffy, thinking that it would somehow make things right between the two of them. There hadn’t been any other choice at the time. He’d been caught between two worlds, unable to go back to what he’d been, and unable to move forward.

 

If anything, though, having a soul put some distance between them, because Spike now knew that if given a choice between being with Buffy and doing the right thing—

 

Well, he didn’t know what choice he would make, but before the soul he would have said that it would be the Slayer, without question. Doing the right thing was now as important to him as it was to Buffy. It was a strange turn of events.

 

Spike parked in one of the lots adjoining the warehouse district. There were plenty of people and cars about; warehouses still in use were sprinkled among the empty ones. He had a feeling that the Council hadn’t wanted to use one of the abandoned ones down by the docks because there was the possibility that they would be attacked by the demons and vampires that inhabited that area of town.

 

All he had to do was find the empty warehouse the Council wankers were using.

 

Using all the stealth he’d learned over the years, Spike began a methodical search, heading for warehouses that he could tell were empty from the outside, focusing on those at the edge first. They wouldn’t want witnesses, not with what they had planned.

 

Buffy had given him the details of what had happened, including how she’d escaped. She had been bruised from her fight with Faith—or Faith had been bruised, and had probably done it deliberately to weaken her own body. Faith, however, had been bleeding, and it was hard to know how badly she’d been hurt.

 

Spike paused, catching sight of a black-clad man slipping into a building. He smiled grimly.

 

Looks like he’d found his prey.

 

~~~~~

 

Faith struggled with the chains that bound her. Unlike the last time that the Council goons had grabbed her, they weren’t taking any chances. She’d been unconscious when they locked her up, and they hadn’t so much as opened the door.

 

Her head ached, as did her left knee and hip where the truck had struck her, and her right shoulder throbbed where she’d hit the pavement. She had no idea how she was going to get out of this mess, but she _knew_ she didn’t want to go to England. Faith wanted no part of what the Council had planned for her.

 

Maybe on some level she deserved punishment, if not for the accidental death of the deputy mayor, then for the death of the old professor. She had killed him without a second thought, on the Mayor’s orders. Faith still didn’t know why it had been important that he die; the Mayor had still been defeated.

 

Did that mean she’d killed him for nothing? That her actions had no meaning, other than to put blood on her hands? It certainly seemed that way.

 

And now she faced her judge, jury, and executioner in the form of the Council.

 

Faith heard one of the men speak. “What did they say?”

 

“It’s too risky. The passage through Mexico is out, and there’s no way to get her out of the country from the U.S.”

 

“Are they sure?” The second man sounded worried. “I don’t feel right about—you know. She’s just a girl.”

 

“She’s a Slayer who’s killed more than one person,” the first man said sharply. “You’ll do well to remember that.”

 

“I haven’t forgotten.”

 

There was a long pause, and the first voice said, “I’ll take care of it since you’re too squeamish.”

 

Faith readied herself, knowing that she only had one chance at this. The back doors of the armored truck opened to reveal the man who had held a gun on her. “You’ve reached the end of the line,” he said.

 

She wanted to ask why—why the Council wanted to kill her now, why they hadn’t finished the job while she was in a coma, but the words stuck in her throat. The old man she’d killed had wanted to know why, too, and she hadn’t been able to give him an answer.

 

That was the trouble with being a hired killer. You never really knew why you were doing things.

 

Instead, she kicked out with a heavy boot, nearly catching the man’s hand. He pulled back quickly, preventing her from making contact.

 

“You’re a wild cat, aren’t you?” The man leered. “It’s too bad we don’t have time to get to know one another better.”

 

Faith sneered at him. If she were going to go out, she’d go out swinging. “You never had a chance. You had to hide behind your armored truck.”

 

“I’m getting paid to kill you, not to prove myself,” the man replied with a cruel smile. “Say goodbye, Slayer.”

 

The last time Faith had faced death, her main thought had been satisfaction that she was taking Angel out with her, so it didn’t matter if she died. This time, her life flashed before her eyes, and she was left with the knowledge that there would be no one to miss her, no one to care. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if Buffy danced on her grave.

 

Faith heard a distant shout, and the man in front of her turned away, distracted by the sound. She took her opportunity, kicking the gun out of his hand in the split second distraction. The gun landed inside the truck, and Faith immediately reached for it, straining her bonds and her muscles.

 

Her captor leapt inside, reaching for the gun as well, and his hands closed around it just a split second before hers. She struggled with him, trying to get control of the weapon, knowing that her life depended on it. His face was so close to hers, it was almost touching, and Faith could smell that he’d had onions for lunch.

 

Her breath came in gasps. She should have been able to take the gun easily, but the chains hampered her movements.

 

It was a shock when the shot rang out. The sound seemed to explode in the small space, making her ears ring. Faith felt the warm wetness of his blood splatter across her face and into her mouth. She gagged as his body collapsed on her, staring at his inert form in shock.

 

There was another death on her hands.


	27. The Path to Redemption

Spike heard the shot ring out, and he cursed fluently. He slammed the Watcher’s head into the ground, feeling the body go limp underneath him. “Faith?”

 

There was no response, and he scrambled over to the armored vehicle. “Faith?” She was inside, chained up, and with blood and brain matter splattered across her face. But she was alive, and that was all that mattered for the moment. “You alright?”

 

She was silent, staring at her blood-covered hands.

 

Spike realized that she was in shock, and he pulled the body off of her, searching the man’s pockets for the keys. Once he found them, he reached for the manacles. Faith scooted back, out of his reach, and he hastened to reassure her. “I’m here to help. Buffy sent me.”

 

“Get away from me,” Faith ordered in a low voice.

 

Spike frowned. “You can’t stay here.”

 

She shook her head. “Go away.”

 

“I’m not leaving you,” Spike said. He swore harshly. “I promised Buffy I’d get you out.”

 

She stared at him, then slowly held out her wrists. “Fine.”

 

Spike unlocked the manacles. “Can you walk?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

He climbed out of the armored vehicle, Faith on his heels. “You can come back to my place for now,” he said. “Unless you need a doctor, and then we can go to the hospital.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Faith said fiercely.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

 

“I don’t know you,” Faith snarled. “And even if Buffy did send you, how do I know it’s not a trap? The last time I saw her, she was trying to kill me so she could feed me to her boyfriend.”

 

Spike couldn’t blame Faith for her suspicion. Her relationship with Buffy had been rocky at best, so there was no reason for her to believe that Buffy had her best interests in mind. “It’s a long story,” Spike said. “But she’s got a second chance, and she wants to offer you one.”

 

Faith wiped her bloody hands on her pants. “I don’t need her help. I can take care of myself.”

 

“And how long do you want to run from the Council?” Spike demanded. “You think they’re just gonna let you go? This group is just the first. You can’t run forever, Faith.”

 

“I can run for long enough.”

 

She started for the door, but Spike grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you leave.”

 

“You can’t hold me,” Faith sneered.

 

“Wrong.” He was careful of his strength as he spun her around, holding her tight to his chest, one arm across her shoulders. “I’ve got a ring on that makes me pretty much invulnerable, and I made a promise to a lady. Now, you can come quietly, get a shower and a change of clothes, maybe something to eat, or we can do it the hard way.”

 

She fought him briefly, and Spike kept his grip firm, but gentle. He didn’t want to hurt her anymore than she was already. When she went limp, he let go slowly. “Fine,” she grumbled.

 

Spike wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard relief in her voice.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy watched her mother impatiently. “What’s he saying?”

 

Joyce held up a hand, clearly indicating that she should wait. “What do you want us to tell Angel when he gets here?”

 

Buffy fumed, frustrated. Although the private room had its own phone, it was just a little too far for her to comfortably reach, which is why her mother had taken the call from Spike. Now she wouldn’t hand the receiver over, and Buffy wanted to know what was going on with Faith.

 

When Joyce had hung up, she turned to her daughter. “Spike said that we should send Angel over to his place to stay with Faith, then he’ll come here.”

 

She scowled. “Why didn’t you let me talk to him?”

 

Joyce gave her a severe look. “Buffy, you’re supposed to be resting. You heard what the doctor said. It’s a miracle that you’re even alive!”

 

Buffy really wished that the doctors hadn’t told Joyce that last part—not that she wouldn’t have been able to figure it out for herself. There were a lot of vital organs in the abdomen, and getting stabbed in the gut was never a good thing. “Did they tell you when I can go home?”

 

“Don’t push it, missy,” Joyce said. She lowered her voice slightly. “Just because you’re the Slayer doesn’t mean that you aren’t human. You still need time to recover.”

 

Buffy couldn’t exactly argue that point. Just getting to and from the bathroom required all of her strength, and a little help from someone else. She had a feeling that it was going to be at least a couple of days before the doctors allowed her to go home, and longer than that before she’d be back to patrolling.

 

Spike would be more than happy to take care of things for her, but she didn’t like the idea of him being out by himself, without anyone to watch his back.

 

And when she thought of the available alternatives, none of them appealed.

 

There was a soft knock on the door, and Buffy sighed. “Come in!”

 

She had known it was Angel before he stepped inside. He looked hesitant, as though he didn’t know how to act around her. Buffy supposed that was only natural, after everything she’d told him. She was really a stranger to him now.

 

“Is Spike here yet?” he asked.

 

“I sent him after Faith,” Buffy admitted. “I didn’t know how long the Council would wait.”

 

Angel looked oddly disappointed. “Did he find her?”

 

She nodded. “Yeah. He wants you to meet him at his place to baby-sit her so he can come back here.”

 

“How long are you in for?” Angel asked with a half-smile.

 

Buffy pouted. “I don’t know.” She glanced at her mother. “Have they said anything?”

 

“They’re going to let us know,” Joyce said.

 

Angel nodded. “If you’ll give me directions—”

 

Buffy looked at her mom. “Could you give us a minute?”

 

Joyce hesitated for a moment, then smiled. “Of course. I think I’ll get a cup of coffee.”

 

Angel stepped aside to allow Joyce to pass him, then entered the room.

 

“Shut the door behind you?” Buffy requested.

 

He did as she asked and came to take her mother’s place by her bed. “What’s up?”

 

“Are you going to play nice with Spike?”

 

Angel gave her a sour look. “We don’t have time for fighting, do we?”

 

“No, we don’t, but I know how you guys feel about each other,” Buffy replied with some asperity. “Spike’s promised to be civil, but I haven’t gotten the same assurances from you.”

 

“I think I’m a little more mature—”

 

“Don’t.” Buffy knew her voice was sharp, but she didn’t care. For the moment, they needed Angel, at least until they figured out Faith’s situation, and what they were going to do about the Initiative. “Look, Angel. I know you and Spike have had your differences. He hasn’t said much, but he’s said enough. Don’t provoke him.”

 

“Fine.” Angel didn’t sound happy with her order. “I would think you’d trust me by now, Buffy.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “It’s not about trust. It’s about the fact that everything has changed; nothing is predictable. Spike is the man that I love. I know it hasn’t been as long for you, but—”

 

“It’s okay.” His pained tone cut off the rest of her explanation. “I get it, Buffy. I left, and you moved on.”

 

“He was the only man who ever stayed, Angel,” she said softly. “If he’d left—if Spike had given up, we wouldn’t be here right now.” She left unspoken the implication that there was a good possibility that the world wouldn’t be around either, but she knew Angel was a sharp guy. He’d figure it out.

 

“I should get going.” He rose, striding towards the door and pausing once he’d reached it. “Would it have worked, Buffy?”

 

She knew immediately what Angel meant, and his question confirmed something she’d always suspected. Angel might have left Sunnydale, but he hadn’t given up hope—at least he hadn’t yet. Down the road, maybe he had, but their contact had been limited after Angel had left. “I don’t know.” Then, more honestly, she admitted, “I don’t think so.”

 

It was closure, the kind she hadn’t been able to achieve until after her resurrection the last time around.

 

~~~~~

 

Angel wished that Buffy hadn’t extracted that promise out of him. Not that he would have staked the other vampire, but—well, if Spike had attacked him, he would have been justified in using self-defense.

 

Spike’s place was fairly easy to find; he slipped inside the building as another tenant was leaving, and headed to the basement level. Angel remembered when he’d lived in a basement apartment in Sunnydale; the landlord had called it “garden level,” as though to downplay the fact that it was underground. Not that he’d minded, since the sun had never been a problem the way it had been in the mansion on occasion.

 

A long pause followed his knock, and Angel frowned. Spike should know that he was on the way. He knocked again.

 

“A little impatient, are we?” Spike asked as he opened the door. “What’s your hurry?”

 

“I thought you wanted to get to Buffy,” Angel retorted.

 

“I do.” Spike stood aside. “You got any cash?”

 

“Yeah, but—”

 

“I ordered pizza for her,” Spike said in a low voice. “Don’t have much here. I was planning on going to the store before…” He trailed off. “Anyway, if you’ve got cash to cover it, I’ll head out.”

 

“Wait,” Angel said. “Why am I paying for it?”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m not going to be here to eat it.”

 

Angel frowned. “I’m not going to eat it.”

 

Spike snorted. “That doesn’t mean you can’t. I would have. Blood’s in the fridge. Help yourself if you want it.”

 

He left, slamming the door behind him. Angel frowned, wondering what he was supposed to do with Faith. While he was willing to help Buffy any way she needed, Angel didn’t know how long she wanted him to stay, especially now that Cordelia’s vision had come true.

 

Even his presence hadn’t been enough to keep Buffy from getting hurt, although she hadn’t been killed. Not that he thought he could take credit for that. It had been pure luck that Buffy hadn’t been hurt worse than she was.

 

“Faith?”

 

“Yeah?” She wandered out of one of the back rooms, meeting his eyes defiantly. “What are you doing here? I thought Buffy had dumped you.”

 

Angel felt the need to admit that he was the one to leave, and he said as much. “It was for the best.”

 

“Yeah, right,” Faith sneered. “Seems like Buffy’s a vampire layer, instead of a Slayer.”

 

Angel didn’t hesitate. He shoved her up against the wall, holding her gaze. “What are you doing here, Faith?”

 

“He said Buffy wanted to talk to me.”

 

Angel stepped back, releasing her. “Really? Is that all you want?”

 

“What’s the deal, Angel?” she demanded. “Why are you here?”

 

“Cordelia had a vision.” Angel regarded her evenly. “I came to prevent Buffy from getting hurt.”

 

“That worked out well,” Faith said with a smirk.

 

Angel shook his head. “I don’t think that’s why I’m really here.”

 

She looked a little taken aback by that assertion. “What?”

 

“I think I’m here for you.”

 

Angel watched as his words sunk in, and her eyes widened. “Fuck you!”

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied mildly.

 

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “So, what? You want to save me? Not possible.”

 

“No,” Angel agreed. “I learned that a long time ago. The only person who can save you—is you.”

 

Angel didn’t think she was much happier with that idea than she’d been with the idea that he’d been lured to Sunnydale for her. “I don’t need saving,” she muttered sullenly, flopping down on Spike’s couch.

 

He stayed silent, taking a seat in the comfortable recliner. Angel wondered how he was going to reach her. It would have been easier if she’d reached rock bottom, he reflected. Then, taking another look at her haunted eyes, Angel thought that she might have reached that point already. “What’s the deal with Buffy?” Faith finally asked, breaking the silence.

 

“She came from the future,” Angel said, hoping that Buffy wouldn’t be too angry with him for breaking the news first.

 

Faith stared at him. “What?”

 

“The world was going to end, so she came back to fix things.”

 

Faith snorted. “That sounds like Buffy.”

 

“Why? Because she wants to make the world a better place? Because she takes her calling seriously?” He let his words sink in. “Is that what bothers you so much?”

 

“There you go!” Faith exploded. “Everyone is always talking about how good Buffy is, how wonderful she is. She never—” She stopped abruptly.

 

Angel wondered what she thought Buffy had never experienced. “She watched friends die, Faith,” he said gently. “She watched people she loved leave. Buffy died to save the world, and her friends ripped her out of heaven. Now she’s back here, trying to save you because it’s what she does.”

 

“I don’t need her to save me,” Faith said, but her voice was less sullen and more bewildered. “Why would she want to help me anyway?”

 

“I don’t know,” Angel said honestly. He’d wondered the same thing himself after he’d been disgorged from hell. Buffy hadn’t been required to help him, and yet she had. After everything he’d done to her, she’d had every right to stake him—and she hadn’t.

 

It was then that Angel had learned how much kindness could sting.

 

Faith met his eyes, and he could see that she knew. Faith knew that he understood the pain of losing yourself in the darkness, and the even greater pain of fighting your way back to the light.

 

The door buzzer went off, and Angel stood. “That must be the pizza.”

 

“Spike stuck you with the bill?” Faith asked with some amusement.

 

Angel shrugged. “It won’t be the first time.”

 

But it would be the first time that he didn’t mind.

 

~~~~~

 

Graham had never been terribly ambitious. Mostly, he’d just wanted to do his job and go home at the end of the day. Riley had been the one that the others took orders from without question. His death had been a shock, and a reminder that the things they fought were deadly.

 

He had recognized the man with Buffy as the vampire they had been tracking the week before. The tracer signal had become useless before tracking him down, but Graham was now grateful for that fact. It was clear—to him at least—that there was a lot more going on in this town than they understood. He knew that Spike was a vampire, but Graham had also seen his concern for Buffy after Adam had speared her.

 

Really, he wasn’t angling for a promotion—not after Riley’s death, not with the discovery of a potentially friendly vampire, or with the capture of the Slayer. Adam was a threat to the civilian population, therefore he needed to be taken out.

 

In the end, Graham was a soldier, and he’d do what needed to be done, whatever methods needed to be used. Forrest wasn’t quite so pragmatic, which is why Graham hadn’t told him what he’d planned.

 

“Buffy Summers, please,” Graham told the nurse.

 

The nurse eyed him suspiciously. “Are you family?”

 

“A friend.” He gave her his best smile. “She’s been expecting me.”

 

He probably should have brought flowers to give credibility to his charade, but after a moment the nurse seemed to accept him at his word. “Room 412.”

 

“Thank you.” Graham wasn’t sure what he was going to say, or how he was going to broach the subject of Adam. He was about to knock on the door when he heard a voice behind him.

 

“She’s asleep, and it had better stay that way.”

 

He recognized Spike’s voice immediately. “I was hoping to talk to her.”

 

“I was hoping for a quiet evening at home with my girlfriend,” the man replied wryly. “We don’t always get what we want.”

 

“Can we talk?”

 

The other man looked him up and down, seeming to weigh his question carefully. “Yeah. Let’s get something to drink. The name’s Spike, by the way.”

 

“Graham.” He followed Spike to the cafeteria. “How is she?”

 

“Pissed as hell that she’s still in the hospital,” Spike said with a smile. “But that’s to be expected. Didn’t get a chance to ask you earlier why you did it.”

 

Graham knew immediately that he was referring to his choice to hold off Adam while Spike got Buffy to the hospital. “Because she was hurt and needed medical attention.”

 

“And yet you were one of the men who attacked her after she went after that demon,” Spike mused. “Have to wonder why you’d let us go when you had us at your mercy.”

 

“How did you know?” Graham asked, not bothering to lie.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “I saw you later that night, heard you talking to your friends. You’re going out on a limb, mate.”

 

Somehow Graham knew that he was in much greater danger at the moment with this man than he had been earlier while facing Adam—if he gave the wrong answer. “That wasn’t my call. I’d have gone after the demon.”

 

Spike seemed to relax imperceptibly. “And if I told you that not all demons need going after?”

 

Graham shrugged. “I do my job. Right now my job is taking out Adam. I figure if it doesn’t pose a threat, there’s no point worrying about it.”

 

“Not a bad policy,” Spike admitted. “What do you know about Adam?”

 

“It was the professor’s special project,” Graham replied. “You?”

 

“More than that.” Spike sat down at a small table, and waited for him to do the same. “You’d be surprised at what we know, but that’s a long story. I want to know what you’re going to do.”

 

Graham knew that the man—vampire—sitting across from him could be dangerous, and he knew that the Initiative’s mission was to eradicate all such dangers. On the other hand, Spike seemed disinclined to hurt anyone, while Adam had already killed one man. Under the circumstances, Graham was willing to make allowances.

 

If it turned out that this vampire was after the same things they were—why not join forces?

 

Graham’s father had always told him that people had a tendency to surprise you. It looked like he’d been right.

 

“I’m going to stop Adam,” Graham said quietly. “Will you help?”

 

Spike gave him a predatory grin. “I think the proper question is will _you_?”

 

In this case, Graham was willing to believe that the ends might justify the means, although he wouldn’t be telling Forrest about their new allies.


	28. A War on Two Fronts

Giles put the receiver down and took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily. Eamon had been clear that Travers was unwilling to call off the Council’s wet works team, particularly after Faith had killed one of them. They would be sending a replacement, and then they would be continuing their pursuit.

 

Giles had argued that Faith had merely been defending herself; Spike had said as much, so there was a witness. The Council wasn’t inclined to rely upon the word of a vampire, and Eamon had no answer to the problem of the Initiative.

 

Now it appeared as though they would be forced to fight a war on two fronts.

 

The phone rang, and Giles picked it up absently, his mind still preoccupied with the call to Eamon. “Hello?”

 

“Rupert, it’s Spike. I just got done talking to one of the soldiers.”

 

“Which one?” Giles asked.

 

“Graham, the one Buffy liked,” Spike replied. “Not a bad bloke.”

 

Giles’ eyebrows went up. That was high praise coming from Spike. “Is he going to call the soldiers off?”

 

“Already done.” Spike sounded pleased with himself, with good reason. Making sure that he and Buffy weren’t going to be pursued by the Initiative was a significant improvement to the situation, especially with Buffy in the hospital. “It was Walsh who wanted us, and she’s dead, thanks to Adam. Not that I like being grateful to that pile of junk.”

 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Giles said mildly. “Perhaps we could simply be grateful that Walsh was fated to die.”

 

“Yeah, that’ll do. Heard anything from the Council?”

 

“I just got off the phone,” Giles admitted. “They’ll continue pursuing Faith. I’m not sure what would convince them to leave off. They have no words of wisdom concerning the Initiative. I’m not sure what you want to do.”

 

“Buffy’s idea is looking better and better. We’ve got a man on the inside now, yeah? Have him spread the word that we’re locking the place up tight, and then do it.” Spike’s tone gave nothing away as to how he felt about that option.

 

Giles sighed. In a way, it was an elegant solution. Letting all of the demons loose would only cause Buffy more grief down the road, and it had been the Initiative that had created the problem in the first place.

 

Of course, the soldiers involved believed that they were doing their job, and it seemed wrong to place them in danger for that. He remembered how many soldiers had been killed the last time.

 

“I still think we need to explore our other options,” he finally said. “Such a course of action could result in a high death toll.”

 

“For Initiative soldiers,” Spike observed. “Not breaking my heart, Watcher.”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Perhaps not, but I’m still loath to take such a step unless we have to. If we could disable Adam—”

 

“Leaving the Initiative still operating?” Spike snorted. “Then what? You know they’ll just go back to their old ways.”

 

Spike was probably right. There didn’t seem to be any way to shut it down for good without going to extremes, and that meant that people would die. This was the part of the job that he hated, having to make decisions that would end in bloodshed and death.

 

“You may be right,” he acknowledged. “But that decision is some time down the road. The Council’s pursuit of Faith seems to be our highest priority at the moment.”

 

“I don’t think we can choose priorities,” Spike said. “We’re going to have to deal with all of it at once, most likely.”

 

Giles knew Spike had a point, but it tended to complicate matters. “Perhaps, but it’s not a decision to make today. How’s Buffy?”

 

“Sleeping now,” Spike said. “Think she’ll stay under for a while with what the doctors gave her. I figure I’ll run a quick patrol. You may want to go over to my place and see how Faith and Angel are making out.”

 

He bit back a groan. The last thing he wanted was to deal with Angel, and he certainly didn’t want to be faced with the two of them at once. It didn’t seem as though they had much choice, however. “I’ll go over there now.”

 

“Thanks, Rupert. We’ll talk later.”

 

Giles put down the phone and rested his head in his hands, mustering up his strength. He’d wanted to go to the hospital to see Buffy, but he’d had to make his call to Eamon. Now, it would have to be put off in favor of visiting Faith to see what she knew and of what help she could be.

 

If any at all.

 

Tara’s glimpse of the future indicated that they needed the other girl, but there was no guarantee of that. There was also no guarantee that they would succeed in destroying Adam, even with two Slayers on hand.

 

“Once more into the breach,” Giles finally murmured, rising and straightening his spine. There was truly no rest for the wicked.

 

~~~~~

 

Faith looked over at Angel when the knock on the door came. “You gonna get that?”

 

He sighed and rose while Faith went back to watching television. She was full from the pizza and more than a little sleepy. Although she hadn’t really slept since leaving the hospital, Faith was reluctant to go to bed. She’d lost nine months while in the coma, and she hated the thought of losing yet more time.

 

“Faith.”

 

She recognized the voice immediately, and Faith rose from the couch, feeling the need to stand up to face her accuser. Although Giles had always been Buffy’s Watcher first, he’d been decent to her—and she had betrayed him.

 

“Giles.” She swallowed. “Where’s Buffy?”

 

“She’s still in the hospital,” he replied, sounding faintly disapproving, although whether that was because he wished her position reversed with Buffy’s, or because he was disappointed that Buffy had been hurt, Faith didn’t know. “I think it will be another day at least before the doctors release her. Spike is staying there.”

 

“Figures,” Angel said. “We need to discuss what we’re going to do with the Council and Adam.”

 

Giles gave him a sharp look. “Spike is aware of that, Angel. Buffy is very vulnerable right now, however, and I cannot blame him for wanting to remain close to her.”

 

“Is she going to be okay?” Faith asked, not even knowing why she would care, but she did. Maybe it was only because there were unanswered questions, like why Buffy would care to help her. Or why Spike would. It didn’t make much sense.

 

“In time,” Giles said, his face softening. “I think we should talk, Faith.”

 

Faith didn’t like the sound of that. “About what?”

 

“About what our next step is going to be.” Giles took a deep breath. “I haven’t been able to dissuade the Council from coming after you, and I’m not sure it’s possible now that one of their operatives has been killed.”

 

“That was self-defense!” Faith protested angrily.

 

Giles held up a hand. “I know that, as do all of us. Unfortunately, the Council has only your word and the word a vampire for that, and they aren’t inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt at present.”

 

“What can we do, Giles?” Angel asked. “If they’re just going to keep coming—”

 

Giles shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure.” He met her eyes. “Faith, we _do_ need your help with Adam. We must stop him, and we have information that you will be integral to that end.”

 

Faith shifted uncomfortably. “How do you know I won’t betray you again?”

 

“We don’t, but Buffy wants to give you a chance, and I’m willing to trust her in this.”

 

Faith shook her head. “Why? I don’t understand! Buffy hates me!”

 

“I don’t think that she does,” Giles said carefully. “I don’t know that she likes you very much, but she doesn’t hate you.”

 

Faith stood and began to pace. “Okay, fine. Say I help you. What am I going to get out of it?”

 

“Faith!” Angel said, a reprimand in his voice.

 

Giles shook his head. “It’s a fair question, Angel. What do you want?”

 

“A ticket out of town,” she said bluntly. “If I’m going to have to run from the Council, I want to have a shot at it.”

 

“Is that a good idea?” Angel asked. “If they catch up to you, you’ll be alone.”

 

“I’ve always been alone,” Faith shot back, feeling that truth more than ever before. She looked at Giles. “So? Is it a deal?”

 

“If that’s what you want, then I will see to it,” he agreed calmly. “It is probably best for you to remain here for now. The Council does not know where Spike lives, and it’s unlikely that they would find either one of you here.”

 

Angel frowned. “Is there anything you need us to do, Giles?”

 

“Not at present,” Giles said. “For the moment, I believe that we must simply wait.”

 

Faith waited until he was gone to announce, “I hate waiting.”

 

Angel shook his head. “He’s right. Until we have a plan of action for Adam, we don’t have much of a choice.” He looked at her sharply. “Why are you so set on going off on your own, Faith? It’s the fastest way to get yourself killed.”

 

Faith snorted. “I’ve been taking care of myself a long time, Angel.”

 

“Then maybe it’s time to accept some help from someone who cares,” he suggested.

 

She met his eyes, not allowing any of her emotions to show. “The last time I did that, I wound up in a coma.”

 

“The Mayor—”

 

“—was the only person who ever cared about me,” she spat, cutting him off. “Even Buffy—all she wants is to survive, and she needs me to do it. If she didn’t, you can be sure she’d be getting rid of me as fast as she could.”

 

Faith headed back into Spike’s bedroom. He’d said she could use the bed if she wanted, and she thought the best thing to do was to get some sleep, and escape for a while. She just needed to not think, and to not have Angel jabbering at her about redemption and all that shit.

 

There wasn’t any such thing for someone like her.

 

~~~~~

 

“Aren’t we supposed to have a gift?” Anya whispered as they approached the hospital room. “I thought you were supposed to bring something.”

 

Xander winced. “Probably. We’ll have to come back later.”

 

“Is she going to be here for that long?” Anya asked. “I thought Slayers healed faster than that.”

 

Xander shrugged. “Well, if she goes home, we can bring her flowers there. Come on.”

 

Anya followed him inside the room, grateful that Buffy was sitting up and looking much like she usually did. Anya didn’t like the idea of sick people, or getting sick. Both were reminders of her own too-new mortality that she’d prefer to do without.

 

Xander had wanted to go to the hospital right after it had happened, but Spike and Joyce had told him to stay away. No one except for immediate family was being allowed in to see Buffy anyway, and she was supposed to be resting. They’d had to wait until the next evening after she’d been injured, and Anya was grateful.

 

Buffy was obviously doing a lot better now.

 

“Hey, Anya,” Buffy said, looking around her friend. “How are you?”

 

“I’m fine, but I think I should be asking you that question,” Anya replied. “How are you, Buffy?”

 

Buffy laughed. “I’ll survive, but I’ll be a lot happier when the doctors let me go home.”

 

“Tomorrow, sweetie,” Joyce said.

 

Buffy pouted. “That’s still not soon enough. Is Willow coming by tonight, too?”

 

Xander shrugged. “She and Tara were supposed to meet us here. I guess they’re running late.”

 

Buffy turned pleading eyes on her mother. “Do you think I could get a soda?”

 

Joyce frowned. “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t on the doctor approved diet.”

 

“The doctor’s never dealt with a Slayer before,” Buffy pointed out reasonably. “Please?”

 

“Ginger ale?” Joyce offered. “That’s the best you’ll do.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“I’ll help, Mrs. Summers,” Xander offered, following her out of the room.

 

Anya stood there awkwardly. She didn’t know how to talk to Xander’s friends; it wasn’t as if they had anything in common other than her boyfriend. She wasn’t part of their group.

 

“You can sit down, Anya,” Buffy said. “Is everything okay?”

 

Anya sat, considering the question for a moment. “I’m tired of being poor.”

 

“Have you thought about getting a job?” Buffy asked.

 

“Doing what?” Anya asked. “I’ve tried, but no one wants to hire an ex-demon.”

 

Buffy’s expression was compassionate. “Have you thought about retail?”

 

Anya frowned. “Do you know something that I don’t?”

 

“Giles is going to open a magic shop in a few months,” Buffy replied. “You might ask him if he needs help.”

 

“That’s kind of a long way off,” Anya replied.

 

Buffy nodded. “I know, but you can make it that long, and you’ll love it.”

 

Anya wanted to ask Buffy if being with Xander worked out for her, but she was afraid of the truth. She was so afraid that he would leave her. Anya had never wanted to be in love again.

 

“He really loves you, you know,” Buffy said softly, as though she’d read Anya’s mind.

 

Anya looked down at her hands. “I don’t know sometimes.”

 

“I know.” Buffy was silent until Anya met her eyes again. “Loving someone is hard.”

 

For the first time, Anya felt as though she and Buffy had something in common. “It is.”

 

~~~~~

 

Willow glanced at the clock. “Crap. We’re late.”

 

Tara looked up. “Not too late. It’s not like Buffy’s going anywhere.”

 

“I just feel like I should have been there before now,” Willow said. “I know Spike said she wasn’t taking visitors, but maybe I could have stayed there. What if something had happened, or—”

 

“Breathe, sweetie,” Tara advised her. “Buffy’s going to be fine.”

 

Willow took a deep breath. “Okay. You’re right.”

 

The knock on the door surprised both of them, since pretty much everyone they knew was at the hospital. Willow slung her bag over her shoulder and opened the door. “Oz?”

 

He stood there, looking wonderful. Willow had missed him terribly, but until that moment she hadn’t fully realized how much. “Oz!”

 

She flung her arms around him, and he held on tightly, one strong hand stroking her hair. “Hey.”

 

Willow pulled back to look him up and down. “How are you? I wasn’t expecting you back for another week at least.”

 

Oz shrugged. “I got lucky.” His eyes went to Tara. “Hi.”

 

“Oh!” Willow gestured to the other girl. “Oz, this is Tara. Tara, Oz.” She gave Tara a sheepish grin. “Which you’ve probably already figured out.”

 

Tara waved shyly. “Hey.” She looked at Willow. “D-d-do y-you w-w-want m-me to—” She gestured at the door.

 

Willow shook her head. “No, I need to go see Buffy.” She looked at Oz. “Do you still have the van?”

 

“I do,” Oz replied. “What’s up with Buffy?”

 

“She’s in the hospital,” Willow explained, ushering them out the door and locking up behind her. “They ran into trouble the other night. It’s kind of a long story, but I’ll explain on the way over. We’re late.”

 

Oz shrugged. “I’ll get you there.”

 

“Thanks.” Willow reached for his hand, relieved when he readily laced his fingers with hers. They still had a lot of talking to do, but now he was home, they had a chance.

 

That had been all she’d really wanted—a chance.

 

~~~~~

 

Angel stood as Spike rushed through the door. “How’s Buffy?”

 

“Better,” Spike replied. “Her mates are there to keep her company, and she sent me back here for a shower and a change of clothes.”

 

“And some sleep?” Angel suggested. “You could probably use it.”

 

“Probably could,” Spike agreed. “That doesn’t mean I’ll get it. Where’s Faith?”

 

“Your room.” Angel raised his eyebrows. “Do you really think you can make her happy?”

 

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Spike said flatly. “I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

 

“Well?” Angel asked. He knew that he might not get another chance to talk to Spike alone. The other vampire seemed to be doing his best to avoid him, and Buffy didn’t seem keen on leaving them alone together.

 

Spike snorted. “Fine. Yes, I do think I can make her happy. She tried normal, Peaches. It didn’t work out. ‘Normal’ boy was jealous of her power, and he didn’t like his girlfriend being stronger than him. Me? I don’t mind. Like it or not, we’re together.”

 

“What happens when she gets old?” Angel demanded.

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell! I don’t know! Have you looked around lately, Angelus? The chances of either one of us living long enough for that to happen are pretty low. Slayers tend to die young.”

 

“And when that happens?” Angel asked, gentling his voice.

 

Spike’s expression grew bleak. “I don’t know. Might be time to meet the sun then.”

 

“Come see me before you make that decision,” Angel said gruffly.

 

Spike gave him a sharp look. “What are you saying?”

 

“I’m saying that you can come see me if you need to,” Angel said slowly. “Look, I know why you got your soul, and I know you’ll take care of her. If—if it happens, and you need a place to go for a while…”

 

Spike looked at him, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Yeah, okay. We’ll see.”

 

That was all Angel could ask for. In truth, he didn’t even know why he’d made the offer, except that he felt some degree of responsibility for Spike. Angel was a large part of the reason that Spike had turned into a monster, and now Spike had sought his own redemption. Angel felt duty-bound to help.

 

Or at least to offer. If Spike didn’t take him up on it, he really wouldn’t mind. He and Spike might be on the same side now, but he was still a pain in the ass.

 

Faith came out of the room a few moments after Spike went in. “What’s up with him?”

 

“He wants to get back to the hospital, I think,” Angel replied. “Are you going?”

 

Faith shrugged. “I thought we were supposed to be lying low.”

 

“You are!” Spike’s voice came out of the bathroom. “But we’ll be going the back way.”

 

“The back way?” Faith asked Angel.

 

He shrugged. “Probably by the sewers.”

 

Faith grimaced. “Can’t I just stay here?”

 

“Buffy wants to see you,” Spike said, poking his head out of the bathroom. “So, you’re going. Angel, you can stay or go as you please. We’re going after visiting hours are over, to avoid the crowd in the room. Buffy wants to have a word with all of us.” He disappeared, shutting the door again.

 

Angel glanced at her. “You ready?”

 

Faith shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and failing miserably. “Yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

 

“Because the last time you saw her, you were both trying to kill each other?” Angel suggested. “I know how that works, Faith.”

 

Faith shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.”

 

“Not ‘whatever,’” Angel said fiercely, suddenly certain that he needed to reach her before Faith saw Buffy. If she had her defenses up, Faith wouldn’t listen, and Spike was right; they needed her. Not because of Adam, not because she was extra muscle.

 

They needed Faith because having a Slayer on the other side wasn’t a good idea, and if that’s the direction she was heading, it might be better to let the Council take her.

 

“You are _not_ bad,” he hissed. “You are not evil. Spike was worse than you; _I_ was worse. You see us? We changed paths. You can, too.”

 

Faith tried to jerk away from him, but Angel held her fast. “You can change, Faith. It won’t be easy, but I’ll be with you every step of the way if that’s what you want.”

 

She froze, looking into his eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

 

“I do.”

 

“You’re still in love with Buffy,” she accused.

 

“Buffy has nothing to do with this,” Angel shot back. “This is between you and me. And Buffy’s with Spike now.”

 

She searched his face with her eyes, looking for something, although Angel didn’t know what. “You swear?”

 

“Yeah.” Angel looked her right in the eyes. “You can do this, Faith.”

 

He saw a flicker of hope in the depths of her dark eyes. “Okay.”

 

It was a start.


	29. Marshaling Forces

Buffy’s eyes went wide as she saw who was coming through the door. “Oz!”

 

“Hey, Buffy.”

 

“When did you get into town?” Buffy looked from Oz to Willow and back again, wondering exactly what the status of their relationship was, although their joined hands gave her a clue. She looked past them to Tara, who appeared determinedly cheerful.

 

“Today,” he said briefly. “I went straight to your dorm room.”

 

“It’s a good thing he caught us there,” Willow added. “Where’s Spike?”

 

“I sent him home to get a shower and some sleep,” she explained. “He’ll be back later.” She didn’t mention that he was planning on bringing Angel and Faith with him, once visiting hours were over. Buffy wished Spike could be convinced to smuggle her out, but he was being entirely too stubborn about listening to the doctors.

 

Xander and her mother came back just then from getting sodas, and the room grew very crowded. Joyce allowed the impromptu gathering to go on for about fifteen minutes before she started shooing people out the door.

 

Xander and Anya were the first to go, then Buffy said, “I’m sure you and Oz want to get reacquainted, Willow.”

 

Willow’s eyes lit up for a moment, before she gave Buffy an apologetic look. “Are you sure? I mean—”

 

“Go,” Buffy replied. “I think Mom can probably give Tara a ride back to campus, or Spike will do it when he gets back.”

 

“Of course,” Joyce said quickly. “I’d be happy to.”

 

“Well…” Willow glanced over at Tara. “If you don’t mind—”

 

“It’s fine,” Tara said firmly. “You should go.”

 

They didn’t have to be told again. Buffy caught Tara watching them leave, a wistful expression on her face. “Being the third wheel sucks,” she observed.

 

Tara shook her head quickly. “Oh, no, I don’t mind. I know Willow’s just been waiting for him to come back. I understand.”

 

“It still sucks,” Buffy said softly. “I’ve been there.”

 

Tara ducked her head shyly, not replying.

 

Giles stuck his head through the door. “Has everyone gone?”

 

“Not everyone,” Buffy replied. “How’s Faith doing? Is Angel okay?”

 

“They’re fine, Buffy,” Giles assured her. “Faith seems anxious to get out of Sunnydale, however.”

 

“Can you really blame her?” Buffy asked. “I mean, the Council has it out for her, and now she’s got Adam to look out for, too.”

 

Giles frowned. “I would almost think that you’re fond of her, Buffy.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Not fond. We’re not friends. But I understand her better now than I used to. I just want to be sure she’s got a chance.”

 

“I think she will,” Tara offered. “From what I saw.”

 

“I hope so.”

 

Giles cleared his throat. “Has anyone eaten yet? I can go get some sandwiches from the cafeteria, if anyone wants one.”

 

“That would be good,” Joyce replied.

 

“Buffy?” Giles asked. “What about you?”

 

She made a face. “I finally convinced them to take the cast off, but they won’t let me eat solid foods yet.”

 

“You might be the Slayer, but it’s still going to take time for you to heal,” Joyce said sternly.

 

“Yes, Mom.” Buffy made a face at Tara, who fought back a giggle. “Can I at least get some jello?”

 

“We’ll see what we can find,” Joyce promised. “Come on, Mr. Giles. I’ll go with you.”

 

Once they had left the room, Buffy turned to Tara. “Are you okay?”

 

Tara frowned. “What—” She stopped. “You knew?”

 

“Yeah.” Buffy hesitated, wondering how much to tell the other girl.

 

Tara didn’t seem to need telling, however, because she blinked back sudden tears. “Oh.”

 

“I’m sorry, Tara,” Buffy said immediately.

 

“Things change, right?” Tara smiled bravely. “You didn’t know. Just—were we happy?”

 

“For a little while,” Buffy said honestly. “Maybe things would have worked out eventually, but…”

 

“Something happened?”

 

“Yeah.” Buffy reached for her hand. “I want you to know that you’re important to us, Tara. To me and Spike. We really can’t do without you.”

 

Tara flushed deeply. “Thank you.”

 

“Do you want to stay tonight?” Buffy asked. “Spike’s bringing Angel and Faith with him after visiting hours.”

 

“Why?” Tara asked. “Do you need me to?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. I just—you have a good sense for people. I wouldn’t mind getting your sense of Faith.”

 

“If you want me to stay, I will, Buffy,” Tara said.

 

Buffy smiled at her, grateful for the other girl’s deep sense of loyalty, and her willingness to help. “Thanks. I think it would be good. I’m sure Spike can give you a ride back later.”

 

“Buffy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I died, didn’t I?” Tara met her gaze forthrightly. “That’s what happened.”

 

Buffy couldn’t lie to her. “Yeah, but it’s not going to happen this time.”

 

Tara smiled gently. “You don’t know that.”

 

Buffy set her chin. “Yeah, I do. It’s already different, and I can promise that Spike would rip Warren limb from limb before he allowed that weasel to hurt either of us again.”

 

Tara flushed slightly, then nodded her acceptance.

 

While Buffy knew she couldn’t guarantee that _nothing_ would happen, she knew that Warren wouldn’t be allowed to do any damage this time around. She was certain of that much.

 

~~~~~

 

“I want to show you something,” Oz said, interrupting the flow of his story.

 

Willow frowned. “What?”

 

“Come on.” He reached for her hand, leading her through the halls and outside.

 

For a moment, Willow didn’t understand what it was he was trying to show her, and then she followed his gaze upwards. Her eyes widened as she realized the import of what she was seeing. “It’s a full moon! And you’re not—” She stared at him. “How?”

 

“Some herbs, chanting, a couple of charms…” He trailed off, holding up a wrist, where she could see a cord with beads. “A lot of meditating and learning how to keep your cool.”

 

Willow grinned. “Well, good, because you were a real hothead before.”

 

Oz held onto her hands, his eyes full of hesitation. “Buffy told me before I left, that if I didn’t send you some word, you’d move on. Did you?”

 

“No,” Willow whispered. “I waited, Oz. I don’t—I don’t know. You—you probably should know some things about me.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, Will,” he soothed, pulling her to his chest.

 

Willow shook her head, pulling back. “No, you should know. You went and had this total mind/body transformation, and I’ve been here.” She took a deep breath. “Can we sit down?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Willow hadn’t realized that Oz’s return would necessitate telling him about the magic, about the spell she’d done that had hurt Spike and Buffy, and the more recent one that had shown her the path her life would have taken.

 

Had taken, really. Xander had been right; they all had a second chance now, but that didn’t mean that somewhere her choices hadn’t hurt the ones she’d loved.

 

Willow had been wondering about that a lot, actually. Would things be different with Oz, as opposed to Tara? What would he say when he found out that she was going to have to go for training that summer? She’d promised Buffy that she would, and Giles as well.

 

“What’s up?” Oz asked, sitting down on her bed, clearly expecting her to join him.

 

Willow couldn’t sit; she was too nervous. “I—I did this spell, while you were gone. I was missing you so much, and—and I just wanted to make the hurt go away.”

 

He frowned. “I’m sorry, Will.”

 

“No!” she said quickly, alarmed. “I didn’t mean that it was your fault at all. It was mine. I tried to take control, and I hurt some people. Buffy and Spike being the people. They could have killed each other. And I wanted to see the future. I wanted to know how things would turn out with us, and Tara used a scrying bowl, so I thought I’d try that too, but I—”

 

Oz stood, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Slow down.”

 

“I saw the future, Oz,” Willow said, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. “I saw what I did, why Buffy doesn’t really trust me anymore. I killed someone. I almost ended the world, and you need to know, because you might not want—”

 

He gave her a little shake to stop her words. “You think I don’t know about having the darkness inside?”

 

Willow gulped. “No,” she said in a very small voice.

 

Oz smiled. “If I know you, you already have a plan.”

 

“Buffy wants me to get training, and Giles thinks he knows of someone in England, but I’d have to go this summer.” Willow searched his face, trying to figure out how he was reacting to the information.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“How could I not support you in this, Will?” Oz touched her cheek. “Did you think I’d be angry with you?”

 

“I’m angry with me,” Willow replied. “I hurt the people I care about.”

 

“I guess that makes us even.”

 

Willow leaned her forehead against his chest. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”

 

“I’m just grateful that you’re giving me another chance.”

 

She held him tighter. “I’m glad you came back.”

 

“I love you,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“I know. I love you, too.” For the first time in months, Willow felt at peace. There was nowhere she’d felt at home quite as much as in Oz’s arms.

 

~~~~~

 

Faith felt a great deal of trepidation as she followed Spike through the hospital basement. There had been a sewer entrance down there, probably courtesy of the Mayor. She knew that he’d had a lot to do with the network of hidden tunnels below the surface of the town. It would make sense for him and his cohorts to have easy access to the hospital, among other key locations.

 

Faith had no idea what her feelings towards Buffy were. She knew she was still angry with the other Slayer—even though she couldn’t have fully explained why—but she was curious, too. Faith wanted to know why Buffy was so intent on giving her a second chance. Maybe Angel had been right, and Buffy had come from the future, but that still didn’t explain why Buffy wanted to help her.

 

Spike headed up a set of stairs, and Faith stayed on his heels, feeling as though she had little choice. Although neither vampire had threatened her, Faith definitely got the impression that this little trip wasn’t voluntary.

 

Faith followed Spike out into a hospital hallway, to the second door on the left. He slipped inside, and she followed his lead, getting out of the way so that Angel could enter as well.

 

And then she was face to face with the _other_ Chosen One.

 

“Hi, Faith.” Buffy sounded incredibly calm, considering that the last time they’d seen one another, she’d stuck a knife in Faith’s gut.

 

“You wanted to see me?” Faith inquired, not wanting to give away her nervousness.

 

“Yeah.” Buffy glanced over, and Faith noticed another girl for the first time. She’d been too focused on Buffy to take in much of the surroundings. “This is Tara.”

 

Faith eyed the girl warily, then shrugged. This Tara didn’t look like much of a threat. “What did you want?”

 

“Faith,” Angel hissed.

 

“It’s okay,” Buffy said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.” She looked Faith dead in the eye. “Do you want privacy for this, or do you care?”

 

Faith shrugged, pretending a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “Whatever.”

 

“Has Angel told you anything about what happened to me?”

 

“You came back to the past because you were fucked.” Faith used the profanity deliberately, hoping to shock the other girl. To her surprise, both Spike and Buffy started to chuckle.

 

“That’s as good a way as any to describe it,” Spike said.

 

Buffy smiled. “Pretty much. The world was going to end.”

 

“I don’t get what that has to do with me,” Faith said.

 

Buffy smiled faintly. “Nothing, really, except that I really don’t want to repeat my mistakes.”

 

“What do you want from me?”

 

“Nothing.” Buffy’s eyes hardened. “If you want to leave, now is the time, Faith. We’ve already got the Initiative to deal with, and if you stay, we’ll have the Council to worry about, too.”

 

Faith frowned. “I thought you wanted me to stay.”

 

“Not necessarily, but we can offer you protection from the Council,” Spike said. “In return, you help us with our little problem.”

 

“So that’s what this is about,” Faith said, feeling a sense of disappointment almost in spite of herself. “Your problem.”

 

“No, it’s about you.” Buffy sighed. “Look, Faith. I’ve screwed up my fair share, too. I know how this works. If you want to change, fine. We’ll do everything we can to help. If not, there’s nothing I can do, except offer whatever help you’ll take.”

 

Faith was a little surprised to realize that Buffy meant it. “So, if I walk out of here right now?”

 

The other Slayer shrugged. “You’re on your own, although I won’t tell the Council anything. I think I owe you that much.”

 

Faith knew that they owed each other more than that. As much as she hated the idea, she and Buffy were bound together, just by virtue of being Slayers. “I’ll help,” she said finally.

 

“Thank you,” Buffy said, and there was real gratitude in her voice.

 

She shoved her hands in her pockets. “What next?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy admitted. “We’ve discussed a couple of options, but none of them are tempting.”

 

“Like what?” Angel prompted.

 

“Sealing it up and letting them fight it out,” Spike said. “There’s some concern about the death toll.”

 

Faith frowned. “They’re our enemies, right?”

 

“Not all of them,” Buffy said quickly. “I think at least one of them, Graham, is going to help.”

 

“Faith has a point,” Angel rumbled. “From what you’ve said, there’s no point in taking risks.”

 

“We need to shut the place down,” Buffy said. “That doesn’t mean I want to kill everybody to do it. Maybe we didn’t have a choice last time, but that’s not the case now.”

 

“Isn’t it?” Spike asked quietly. “How else are we going to be sure that they don’t open up shop again?”

 

Tara cleared her throat nervously. “C-can’t y-you j-just make it uncomfortable for them?”

 

Faith frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

Tara flushed. “I—it d-doesn’t m-matter.”

 

“No, Tara, tell us what you were thinking,” Buffy urged.

 

Tara shrugged. “There are little w-w—things. D-demons get out, m-men g-g-get hurt, guns jam up. It d-d-d-doesn’t seem like much, until you add it all up.”

 

Spike’s face broke out in a grin. “Truly nasty practical jokes, you mean? Guerrilla warfare?”

 

When Tara nodded, Buffy grinned, too. “That’s not a bad idea. We’d still have to find a way to take out Adam, but we could make it so uncomfortable for the soldiers that they don’t have any other choice but to leave.”

 

“This place is underground, right?” Angel asked. “Surely there’s a way to collapse some of their tunnels.”

 

“What did Graham say?” Buffy looked at Spike.

 

He shrugged in reply. “Wants to help us take out Adam, but I wouldn’t count on him for more. Still have to find a way to rip that battery pack out.”

 

“Faith is going to have to do it.” Buffy’s tone and expression left no room for argument.

 

“What?” Faith demanded.

 

Buffy met her eyes. “Adam _will_ kill people, and he’s going to start soon, if he hasn’t already. I’m not going to be healed soon enough.”

 

Faith shook her head. “I don’t think—”

 

“Spike and Angel can help,” Buffy went on, running right over Faith’s objections. “With the ring, Spike’s pretty much invulnerable.”

 

Spike looked at her. “You don’t think we should try calling on the First Slayer again?”

 

Buffy sighed. “That spell requires a lot of trust, Spike. Giles and Willow would need to be on board, although Angel could probably provide the third person.”

 

“What spell?” Faith asked, not liking the fact that she didn’t get their references.

 

Buffy rubbed her eyes. “It requires calling on the spirit of the First Slayer, and incorporating the essences of several other people. Giles was the mind, Willow the spirit, and Xander was the heart.”

 

“Rupert would be willing,” Spike said quietly. “He’s put personal feelings aside for the mission in the past.”

 

“I don’t think that matters,” Buffy replied. “We’d still be missing a couple of players. Besides, then Faith would have to deal with the spirit of the First Slayer, and that was not fun.”

 

Faith shrugged. “Then we do it the hard way.”

 

“Angel and I can distract him while Faith yanks his battery out,” Spike said. “We just have to find him.”

 

Angel raised his eyebrows. “What was he after the last time? Chances are he hasn’t changed his mind.”

 

“Building an army.” Spike straightened from where he’d been leaning against the wall. “This isn’t doing us much good. Buffy needs to rest.”

 

Buffy shook her head stubbornly. “I’m fine.”

 

“Real fine,” Spike agreed indulgently. “Maybe I’m the one who’s tired.”

 

Faith turned away as he bent to kiss her. There was something about the tenderness they displayed towards one another that made her stomach lurch. She knew that she was seeing something she would never have.

 

“We’ll give you a ride home, Tara,” Spike said, heading towards the door.

 

“Faith?” Buffy called. “Stay for a minute?”

 

She stayed, although she still didn’t know why she’d agreed to any of this. Maybe Buffy had offered her help, but Faith was taking a big risk in staying. A risk she wasn’t obligated to take.

 

“Look,” Buffy began awkwardly. “I’m sorry.”

 

Faith eyed the other girl warily. “For what?”

 

“For not helping you more when you first came.”

 

“I didn’t want your help,” Faith responded honestly. She didn’t know how to apologize in turn. In a sense, she still wasn’t sorry about striking the deal with the Mayor; he’d been the closest thing to a father she’d ever had.

 

“I know. I just thought I should say it.” Buffy met her eyes, and Faith was startled at what she saw. Raw pain was written clearly on her face, and she knew that it had nothing to do with Buffy’s injuries.

 

“How bad did it get?” Faith asked, suddenly curious.

 

Buffy glanced away, then back. “Let’s just say that I did my share of walking on the wild side.”

 

Somehow Faith believed her.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles picked up the phone, wishing that he might get a full night’s sleep for once. It felt as though it had been weeks. “Yes?”

 

“Rupert, it’s Eamon. I wanted to let you know that the Council voted against sending a second team.”

 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “What made them change their minds?”

 

“Travers got a call from the coven.” There was a definite hint of humor in Eamon’s voice. “One of their seers made it clear that if Faith were to be harmed, the Council would no longer receive their help.”

 

Giles smiled grimly. While the Council tried to keep its own magicians and witches on hand, it was rare to have a Watcher with any real power. That meant that their relationship with the coven was crucial, and while the women—and a very few men—tended to use their influence sparingly, they did use it on occasion.

 

“Good,” he finally said.

 

“When I spoke to her later, Miss Harkness said that she was expecting a student from Sunnydale at the beginning of the summer,” Eamon commented.

 

“Yes, Willow,” Giles supplied. “She needs training.”

 

“She said to ask about another girl who’s there,” Eamon said. “She didn’t have a name, but she thought you’d know.”

 

Giles frowned. “Other than the Slayers, there’s only Anya—and Tara. That must be who she’s referring to.”

 

“Yes, she said to send her along, too.”

 

Giles blinked. He hadn’t even thought about Tara needing training, but it wouldn’t hurt to have two trained witches in Sunnydale, especially given what could and did arise regularly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“I’d see that you follow her orders,” Eamon said, sounding amused. “You know how she can be.”

 

Giles hung up, laying back in his bed and thinking of the head of the coven. Eamon was right about one thing. He _did_ know how Miss Harkness could be; she was one of the few people who could still intimidate him.


	30. Frankenstein's Monster

Buffy winced as she tried to pull the shirt over her head. The doctors had _finally_ decided to let her go home, with a strong warning against any kind of strenuous activity. What she hated most—other than having to spend several nights in the hospital—was that the doctors were right. She might be healing faster than the average person, but it was still a lot slower than she’d like.

 

One cool hand touched her bare back. “Here.”

 

Buffy allowed him to take her t-shirt, although she raised an eyebrow at the alternative. “Your shirt?”

 

“It buttons and it’ll cover you,” he pointed out. “Besides, you’ll probably need at least a day before you don’t have to worry about tearing those stitches.”

 

She made a face but didn’t argue, pulling on Spike’s blue button-down slowly. “How’s Faith?”

 

“Adjusting,” Spike replied. “And sticking close to Angel. I have no idea what she sees in the git.”

 

Buffy gave him a look. “He didn’t have to come and help, Spike.”

 

“No, he didn’t,” he agreed amiably. “Would have preferred it if he hadn’t.” Seeing her expression, he added, “They’re staying with me. It’s getting crowded.”

 

“Poor baby,” she said, teasing.

 

He gave her a sour look, then asked, “Where’s your mum?”

 

“Picking up my prescriptions,” Buffy replied. “I told her not to bother, but she wasn’t going to listen.” She sighed. “I just hope that I can catch up. I hate missing this much school.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Your mum already called them.” He smiled. “Speaking of, Rupert phoned this morning. The Council is calling off the goon squad.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “What? When did this happen?”

 

“Last night or early morning,” Spike replied. “One of the Watchers let Rupert know. Apparently, the coven got themselves involved. Threatened to pull out of involvement with the Council if anything happened to Faith, and it was a potent enough threat that they’re going to.”

 

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Has anyone told Faith yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Spike hedged. “There’s some disagreement.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Our agreement with her was _quid pro quo_ ,” Spike pointed out. “Once she knows the Council isn’t after her anymore…”

 

He didn’t finish the thought, and Buffy winced. Spike was right, but the idea of letting Faith believe that the Council was still after them, just to get her help—

 

“We’re going to have to tell her, Spike,” Buffy said slowly. “Even if it means she takes off. We’ll make it work, but I don’t think we can start lying to her now.”

 

Spike nodded. “Told Rupert that’s what you’d say, but he wanted to wait a bit. He also said that he’s making plans for both Willow and Tara to go to the coven this summer.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t thought about sending Tara, too, and she had no idea what had caused Giles to come up with that idea. Willow might be happier about going if she wasn’t alone, though, especially now that Oz was back in town. “Tara too?”

 

“Said the head asked after her especially,” Spike replied. “Dunno why.”

 

Buffy shrugged. “I can’t see why it would be a bad idea. I just hope that Willow’s still willing to go now that Oz is back in town.”

 

“If she refuses, you might have to insist,” Spike said.

 

Buffy sighed, although she didn’t disagree. She hated being the enforcer; it would be a lot better if Giles managed to convince Willow to go if she balked.

 

Joyce stepped inside. “Ready to go, honey?”

 

“Yes,” Buffy said fervently. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

~~~~~

 

“There’s something I don’t get.”

 

Angel glanced over at Faith. “What’s that?”

 

“Why are you here? If you’re in L.A. now, and you and Buffy aren’t together, how come you’re back in town?”

 

“Cordelia had a vision,” Angel explained. “She said that Buffy was going to get hurt.”

 

“Wait. What?” Faith stared at him, her dark eyes confused. “A vision? Is she psychic now?”

 

“You could say that.” Angel leaned back into the cushions of Spike’s couch. “She gets visions from the Powers That Be.”

 

“I’ll bet she likes that. Being the center of things, I mean.”

 

“Not really. She tried to get rid of them at first, although I think Cordy’s getting used to the idea.”

 

Faith snorted, shaking her head. “I can’t believe she’s doing anything to help.”

 

“There’s a lot more to her than you might think.” Angel gave her a pointed look. “In fact, there’s more to _you_ than a lot of people think.”

 

Faith looked away. “So, when are we doing this?”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Buffy wants us to chase down Adam and pull out his power pack. The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can leave.”

 

“You are coming back to L.A. with me then?” Angel asked. He’d thought she might, but he hadn’t wanted to count on it. Faith tended to do whatever she wanted, and he hadn’t wanted to push.

 

“For a while,” Faith replied evasively. “We’ll see. Maybe you’ll get sick of having me around.”

 

Angel smiled faintly. “It could happen.”

 

She looked surprised—and a little hurt—at his agreement, but then seemed to realize that he’d been joking. “I could get sick of you.”

 

“You probably will.”

 

A smile played around the corners of her mouth. “Yeah.”

 

The door opened, and Spike entered, looking a little frazzled. “We just got word that Adam killed a kid,” he announced. “Buffy wants us hunting for him tonight.”

 

“Do you think it’s going to be that easy to find him?” Angel asked.

 

Spike shrugged. “I don’t know. I remember where he was the last time. We’re meeting a few of the soldiers, ones we think we can trust. They’ll help provide cover or a distraction, whichever we need.”

 

“Is that smart?” Angel objected. “If they know what we are—”

 

“The one I talked to more or less said he didn’t care. Figured if it wasn’t posing a threat, he didn’t have to kill it.” Spike looked at Faith. “You probably should know something before you agree to go out tonight.”

 

Angel watched as Faith squared her shoulders, bracing herself for the worst. “What?”

 

“Council called off the goon squad. Turns out that the coven warned the head wanker that they’d lose the witches’ support if they didn’t.” Spike smiled grimly. “Looks like you’ve got friends places you didn’t know about.”

 

Faith blinked. “So the Council isn’t coming after me?”

 

“That’s what I just said, innit?” Spike asked. “The question now is whether you’re still willing to help us.”

 

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “You weren’t going to tell me.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Wasn’t my decision. Buffy made the call; said you should know.”

 

Angel watched as Faith stared at the ground for a moment, and he stayed silent, knowing that this was one more step in the journey for her. He knew that she’d convinced herself that she was helping Buffy only because of what she could get in return. Now, she was being given the opportunity to do something only because it was the right thing to do.

 

Faith finally shrugged. “Whatever. I still owe you one for helping me out with the Council.”

 

Spike’s face softened slightly. “Yeah, alright. We leave as soon as the sun goes down.”

 

As he headed for his bedroom, Angel called out after him, “Is Buffy okay?”

 

Spike stopped. “She’s fine,” he called over his shoulder. “Physically, anyway.”

 

Angel wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

 

~~~~~

 

“How’s the patient?” Willow asked as she and Oz entered the house.

 

“Better,” Joyce replied. “Although she’s getting very impatient. Did you bring her homework?”

 

Willow nodded. “Yep. All the professors were really nice about it, although it’s probably a good thing that we don’t have Professor Walsh this semester.” She winced. “You know, if she was still alive to care.”

 

Joyce smiled, although she couldn’t see the humor. She’d nearly lost her daughter, and she couldn’t find anything about the Initiative amusing. “You two can go upstairs if you want.”

 

“Is Spike here?” Willow asked.

 

Joyce shook her head. “No, I think he was going back to his place. He was planning to look for Adam tonight, along with Angel and Faith.”

 

Willow nodded, then proceeded upstairs with Oz in tow.

 

Joyce continued with her dinner preparations, although she wasn’t sure who was going to be there. She went through the mechanics of cleaning vegetables and preparing the meat without thinking, because to do so would be very dangerous.

 

“Joyce?”

 

She turned to see Giles standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Rupert? I didn’t realize you were coming over.”

 

“I thought I’d drop in to see how you were doing, and to be sure Buffy was okay.”

 

Joyce forced a smile. “I’m fine. Did you want to stay for dinner?”

 

“I wouldn’t mind.” He took a step inside the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

“No, I think I have it under control,” she replied, trying to sound cheerful. Joyce had promised herself that she wouldn’t show the terror she’d felt upon hearing Buffy had been injured, or the anxiety that still plagued her. She couldn’t quite get over the thought that she might not have much time left with her daughter, and if that was the case, Joyce didn’t want anything to come between them.

 

At least, she wanted to try to keep things on good footing.

 

“Joyce.” Giles’ voice was quiet, and he put a gentle hand on her arm. “She’s going to be fine.”

 

She took a shuddering breath. “I know.”

 

After a moment’s hesitation, Giles’ hand moved to her shoulder, and she moved towards him, resting her forehead on his chest. They stood like that for a long, silent moment. It had been so long since she’d been able to rely on another adult for comfort, particularly where her daughter was concerned. She and Rupert had been moving in that general direction before the incident with the band candy, and then—

 

Well, it had just been too awkward. Now, however, it felt as though they’d managed to build a comfortable relationship, almost a working partnership, with Buffy as the bridge between them.

 

Joyce pulled back eventually. “Thank you.”

 

“It helps to have someone to lean on occasionally,” was all Giles said.

 

“It does,” Joyce agreed, more calmly. “There are times I miss Hank for that.”

 

“Have you not heard from him?”

 

“Not recently.” Joyce sighed. “It seemed as though once Buffy turned eighteen, he decided that she didn’t need her father anymore.”

 

“From the few hints that Buffy’s let drop, that is probably an accurate observation.”

 

Joyce winced. “I hate to think that she was alone after—”

 

It was odd to think that her own death might be just around the corner. Perhaps she’d been able to accept the idea only because she was still in denial.

 

“She won’t be alone. If it happens.” Giles smiled at her encouragingly. “I find it hard to believe that Buffy would allow it to happen, if she can do anything to stop it.”

 

“I’m sure she’ll try.” Joyce recognized the promise for what it was, however, and she returned his smile with gratitude. “Thank you.”

 

Joyce went back to her dinner preparations with Giles looking on in companionable silence, feeling much less alone than she had just a short time before.

 

~~~~~

 

“Hey, Buffy!” Willow chirped. “I bring presents.”

 

Buffy eyed the bag she carried dubiously. “Homework?”

 

“Yeah, but other stuff, too,” Willow replied. She pulled Mr. Gordo out of the bag. “You left him at the dorm room, and I thought you might want him with you while you’re not feeling good.”

 

Buffy smiled, setting the stuffed pig next to her. “Anything else?”

 

Willow pulled out a box of chocolates. “What else? Chocolate.”

 

“Oh!” Buffy’s eyes lit up. She opened the box immediately, selected one with care, then offered Willow and Oz their choice. “Thanks!”

 

“Hey, you got hurt,” Willow said. “You did the same for me when I was down in the dumps.”

 

Buffy’s smile faltered, then became a little more fake. “What else are friends for?” She looked at Oz. “I want to hear about Tibet.”

 

He shrugged. “There were mountains.”

 

Buffy made a face. “Come on, Oz. I want to hear about the monks.”

 

Willow elbowed her boyfriend. “She didn’t get to hear the story the first time around.”

 

Oz shrugged and began to give Buffy the shortened version of the story he’d told Willow the day before. Willow still couldn’t quite believe that she had her boyfriend back, or that they were sitting in Buffy’s bedroom. It wasn’t quite like old times, since she didn’t remember ever being in quite the same position in the past, but there was the same sense of camaraderie.

 

“So, the wolf is under control, huh?” Buffy smiled. “That’s great, Oz.”

 

He shrugged. “It’s a nice change.”

 

Buffy hesitated before asking, “Are you sticking around?”

 

“That’s the plan.” Oz fixed her with one of his penetrating looks. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

 

Buffy shook her head emphatically. “No.” She looked at Willow. “Are you still going to England?”

 

Willow nodded, glancing over at Oz. It had been a relief to tell him what had happened, and what she’d done. It had been even more of a relief to know that he still loved her, that he would love her no matter what she’d done. “We talked about it. It’s for the best.”

 

She didn’t miss Buffy’s sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

 

Oz stood. “I’ve got to get going.”

 

“Thanks for driving me over, Oz,” Willow said, accepting his kiss.

 

He said a brief goodbye to Buffy, then let himself out, and Willow turned to her friend. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Buffy asked brightly. “I’m just sick of being in bed, that’s all.”

 

Willow shook her head. “Give me a little credit, Buffy. I know there’s something bothering you.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Buffy insisted.

 

Willow put on her resolve face, wondering if it would still have the same effect. As it turned out, it did; she didn’t even have to say anything more.

 

“I couldn’t prevent Adam from killing that kid,” Buffy admitted in a low voice. “I should have stopped him.”

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “Buffy! You nearly got killed trying to stop him! You can’t blame yourself for that. If you want to blame anyone, try Professor Walsh. She’s the one who created him.”

 

Buffy made a face. “But—”

 

“No, buts, missy,” Willow said sternly. “This was not your fault. You did everything you could.”

 

Buffy smiled faintly. “I guess.”

 

“Well, I _know_.” Willow grinned at her. “I’ve been accused of being a know-it-all before, but this time I’m right.”

 

“You probably are,” Buffy admitted with a smile. Growing serious again, she asked, “You’re really going for training?”

 

“I have to, Buffy.” Willow swallowed. “I _saw_ what I was capable of. I didn’t know if Oz was going to wait, but it didn’t really matter.”

 

“I think Tara might go with you,” Buffy said. “Spike said something about that. I guess Giles talked to him.”

 

Willow smiled. “It’ll be good to have a friend with me,” she acknowledged. “So, when are you going to be on your feet again?”

 

“As soon as I can convince Mom and the doctors to let me up.” Buffy grimaced. “Mom’s been treating me like I’m made of glass, and Spike isn’t much better.”

 

“Can you blame them?”

 

“Not really,” Buffy admitted. “I’d probably be doing the same thing.”

 

Willow didn’t say it, but she thought that Spike and Joyce were being remarkably restrained under the circumstances.

 

~~~~~

 

“Here,” Spike murmured. Angel and Faith stopped just behind him, and Spike looked into the darkness for the soldiers he could sense nearby. He wasn’t worried for himself, since the ring would prevent any real harm, but Angel and Faith were still vulnerable. “Better let me do the talking.”

 

Angel snorted. “Spike—”

 

“They know me, and Graham’s seen me in the daylight,” Spike reminded him. “I’d rather not draw their attention to either of you.”

 

“I’m okay with that,” Faith said.

 

“Identify yourselves!” a voice suddenly called from the darkness.

 

“It’s me,” Spike said, stepping out from the bushes. “Come out where we can see you.”

 

Graham stepped out, wearing fatigues, but no face paint. “Are you it?”

 

Spike motioned for Angel and Faith to join him. “You manage to convince anyone else to come with you?”

 

Graham nodded shortly. “I found a couple of guys.”

 

Spike hoped that the soldier knew his friends well enough to be sure that they weren’t going to be shooting at the wrong people. “Right. There was a cave in this area that Adam set up shop in.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

The question came from Spike’s left, and he tensed. Both Angel and Faith went on alert, ready to scatter at the first sign of danger. “You don’t want to know where I got my information,” Spike said. “And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

 

“Try me.” The man emerged from the darkness, and Spike recognized him as the one who had been rather too enthusiastic about pursuing Buffy.

 

“I’ve seen the future, and it isn’t pretty.” Spike raised an eyebrow. “In point of fact, you ended up one of Adam’s little playmates last time. I suggest you keep a sharp eye out.”

 

The soldier glared, and Spike could see his hands tightening around his weapon. “Forrest, easy,” Graham said sharply. “We’re on board.” He looked at Spike when he said it, and Spike could see two more shapes detach themselves from the darkness.

 

“Right then. Here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to lead the way, because I know how to get there. You lot will follow—slowly. I want this to be a surprise. The only way to kill him is to rip the battery pack out of his chest. That’s Faith’s job.” Spike looked at Graham. “Did you bring what I asked you to?”

 

Graham hefted his weapon, and Spike could see that it was a military-issue assault rifle, and not one of the energy rifles the Initiative soldiers normally carried. The rest of the team carried similar weapons, and Spike gave a satisfied nod. “Good.”

 

“Why not the regular weapons?” Forrest asked.

 

“I told you,” Graham said, an edge of impatience in his voice. “I tried it, and he ate it up. Give me some credit, Forrest.”

 

Spike could hear the other men stifle sniggers, and he guessed that Graham was the sort who made a very competent second-in-command, but who rarely insisted on leading. Forrest, on the other hand, was clearly itching to be in charge, and was irritated that he wasn’t.

 

On this occasion, however, Graham was clearly the one in command, and Spike wanted to keep it that way. The boy had a decent head on his shoulders.

 

“What are we supposed to do?” one of the other soldiers asked.

 

“Soften him up,” Spike said promptly. “I don’t know if bullets will hurt him, but they’ll sure as hell annoy him. Just watch where you’re shooting.”

 

When he saw he had their attention, Spike nodded. “Let’s go.”

 

Spike knew that it was a calculated risk to allow the soldiers to help at all, but he was certain that even with Angel and Faith there, it would be impossible to stop Adam. His main concern was that the soldiers would wait until Adam was dead, then turn on them.

 

There didn’t seem to be another choice, however.

 

Spike led the way to the entrance into the tunnels. Adam’s lair lay in one of the caverns deep down, and he and Angel had worked out a contingency plan. If the soldiers turned on them, they would lose the men in the caves and make their way out another way. Spike knew the tunnels well enough to do so; he didn’t think that the same could be said for the soldiers.

 

Wanting to keep their ace in the hole safe, Spike directed Faith and Angel to follow the soldiers. That also would serve to prevent the soldiers from trying to get the drop on them.

 

The darkness closed around them, and they all moved as silently as possible. Nothing could be heard except for the rustle of cloth, and the occasional thump of a boot. Spike remembered that Adam moved silently, and he didn’t make any of the usual noises associated with life—or unlife, for that matter.

 

After about ten minutes of feeling his way through the tunnels, Spike saw the first glimmer of light, and he reached back to tap the man behind him on the shoulder. The signal would be passed from one to another down the line, to let everyone know that the target was near.

 

Spike began running as soundlessly as possible as soon as he’d given the signal, knowing that Adam’s senses were even better than his. The cyborg had probably already sensed someone’s presence, but Spike didn’t want to give him any more time to prepare than they had to.

 

He burst into the dimly lit cavern, striking out at the vampire nearest to the entrance. The stake found its mark, and dust scattered. Graham entered just behind him, bringing up the rifle and firing. Spike took care of the only other vampire in the room, allowing the soldiers to take out the demons, since the bullets would actually do some damage there.

 

“You.” Adam’s gaze dismissed the soldiers after a passing glance, clearly not finding them a threat. “You should not have come here.”

 

Spike smiled. “You hurt what’s mine.”

 

“She got in the way,” Adam responded.

 

Spike glanced at Graham, and the man nodded. The barrage of bullets drove Adam back a step, but little more than that. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike saw Faith and Angel enter, staying behind the soldiers, then edging along the side of the cavern.

 

As soon as they were as close as they could get without being hit by a stray shot, Spike called, “Now!”

 

The rain of bullets abruptly stopped, and Spike and Angel sprang forward, catching Adam on either side. The force of their momentum, plus the added strength that the ring gave Spike, allowed them to bowl the cyborg over.

 

Faith was right behind them, and she jumped, landing with her feet on either side of Adam’s chest. She dropped to her knees before he’d had an opportunity to recover and plunged her hand into his chest.

 

Spike watched Adam’s eyes go wide, and then lifeless, as Faith yanked the uranium core out of his chest.

 

It should have been over, but Spike felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he moved quickly to shelter Faith with his body, just in time to prevent her from getting shot.


	31. The Sting of Kindness

The barrage of bullets stopped abruptly, and Spike heard Graham’s voice ring out. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

“He’s a vampire!” Forrest snapped.

 

Spike risked a look over his shoulder, just in time to watch Graham slam Forrest against the cavern wall. “He helped us! I don’t fucking care what he is.”

 

“You okay?” Spike whispered in Faith’s ear.

 

She nodded, although she was pale. “I got hit in the arm.”

 

“You going to be okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He glanced over at Angel, who gave him a quick nod. “Stay down,” Spike murmured, just before getting to his feet.

 

Angel followed him over to where Graham was holding Forrest against the wall. The other two men were standing at ease, guns pointed at the ground. It was clear that they had no intention of getting involved.

 

“Graham?” Spike called.

 

The soldier didn’t move, looking into the eyes of his comrade. “I gave my word,” he hissed. “You promised you’d be cool about this.”

 

“They’re the enemy!” Forrest shouted.

 

Graham pulled away in disgust, and pointed at the cyborg lying on the ground. “No. _That’s_ the enemy.”

 

There was a long silence as the two men stared one another down; Forrest was the first to look away. “Fine.”

 

Graham turned to Spike. “You okay?”

 

Spike nodded shortly, grateful that his instincts hadn’t been too far off. Graham had proved to be trustworthy, and he knew that Buffy had never really trusted Forrest. “Fine. You lot had better go, though.”

 

Their eyes met, and Graham nodded. “Thanks.”

 

He and Angel watched as the soldiers left the cavern, then they both turned back to Faith. The Slayer had clambered to her feet, hand clamped over her still-bleeding arm.

 

Spike watched as Angel’s eyes went golden at the scent of Slayer’s blood, and Faith took a wary step back from them. “You go on,” Angel said gruffly.

 

Spike nodded. “Come on. We’ll get that arm taken care of.”

 

Faith shot him a suspicious look, but she complied. “How come you aren’t all—” She stopped, clearly unsure of how to say it.

 

“I’ve had human blood recently,” Spike said shortly. “It’s not the temptation for me that it is for Peaches. ‘Sides, you’re not the Slayer I’m interested in.”

 

Faith rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I got that.”

 

“Sorry. I don’t like being shot at.”

 

There was a pause. “Thanks,” Faith said awkwardly. “If you hadn’t—”

 

Spike shrugged off her gratitude. “It’s not like they were going to hurt me.”

 

“I guess you’ve saved my life twice now,” Faith said.

 

“Not that big of a deal.”  


Faith didn’t try to argue with him after that, instead following him through the tunnels and out into the night air.

 

“You need to go to the hospital?”

 

“I think it’s just a flesh wound.” She allowed him to steer her over to a rock. “Really, I’m okay.”

 

Spike spared her a wry look. “Buffy told me to look out for you, and that’s what I’m doing. I take my promises very seriously.”

 

She watched as he tore the short sleeve of her t-shirt to the shoulder, inspecting the wound carefully. “What’s the verdict?”

 

“The bleeding’s almost stopped.” He patted his pockets.

 

“What are you looking for?”

 

“Handkerchief.”

 

“Didn’t think you’d carry one of those.”

 

“Depends on the day. Sometimes one comes in handy, especially if you’re going into a fight an’ you don’t want to sacrifice a shirt.” Spike found what he was looking for and shook it out, before folding it up and tying it around her arm. Then, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter.

 

“Can I get one of those?”

 

Spike offered her a cigarette first, then lit it for her with practiced ease. “These things will kill you, you know?”

 

Faith shrugged. “Yeah, well, the chances of me living long enough for it to matter are pretty slim.”

 

Spike grunted his acknowledgement. “You want to head back?”

 

“Let me finish my smoke.”

 

“Yeah, alright.”

 

“How did you and Buffy wind up together?” Faith asked idly. “Never got that part of the story.”

 

Spike took a long drag off his fag, flicking the ash into the grass. “Got caught by the soldiers the first time around, and they put a chip inside my head that kept me from hurting humans. After I escaped, I went to her for help. It was pretty much downhill from there.”

 

“Never understood what everybody sees in B,” Faith observed idly.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Probably a bit of what everyone sees in you.”

 

Faith snorted. “We’re nothing alike.”

 

“You’d be surprised.”

 

Her eyes challenged him. “Yeah?”

 

“You don’t give up, you’re loyal to the people you care about, and you’re a fighter.” Spike smiled. “You and Buffy have quite a bit in common.”

 

Her expression twisted, although he couldn’t tell whether it was with distaste or surprise. “She’s a good girl.”

 

Spike let out a bark of laughter. He wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, but he couldn’t help himself. “Please.”

 

Faith’s eyes widened. “What do you—”

 

“She’s changed, pet. Changed a lot more than you’ll probably ever know.”

 

“But she’s still—”

 

“I was soulless when we first got together, and I won’t tell you that I was a Boy Scout.”

 

“Oh.” Her tone was wondering, and her eyes narrowed in thought. “What do you think she’s going to say about tonight?”

 

“Think she’ll be glad we got the job done,” Spike said frankly. “And I think she’ll be happy Adam won’t have another chance to kill anybody.” He met her eyes. “You going with Angel after all this is over?”

 

Faith nodded. “He asked me to.”

 

“He’ll do right by you,” Spike acknowledged.

 

“Thought you didn’t like him much.”

 

“The reason I don’t like him has nothing to do with you,” Spike said. “We’ve got a long history.” He smiled ruefully. “Suppose it’s a bit like you and Buffy’s.”

 

“And which one are you? The good one, or the bad one?” Faith asked with a smirk.

 

“You’re assuming that one of us was ever good,” Spike replied.

 

“What are you two still doing here?” Angel asked as he emerged from the tunnels. “I thought you were going to take her to the hospital, Spike.”

 

Faith rose to her feet gracefully. “I’m fine, Angel.” She flexed her arm. “See? Good as new.”

 

Angel’s expression told both of them that he wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t argue. “We should get going.”

 

“We heading back to L.A. tonight?” Faith asked.

 

Angel looked surprised, but he shrugged. “I guess we can. I thought we’d see Buffy before we left town, though.”

 

Faith shook her head. “Why? She doesn’t need us around.” She looked over at Spike. “Anyway, I hate goodbyes.”

 

Spike knew immediately that she was saving him the trouble of watching Angel say farewell to his girlfriend, and allowing Buffy to avoid the bother as well. Angel might have been surprisingly civil, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do his share of moping. “We can go past my place to pick your stuff up,” Spike said blandly. “I should let Rupert know that Adam is taken care of. Buffy and Joyce are probably asleep by now.”

 

Angel didn’t protest, and they made the drive back to Spike’s apartment in silence. It didn’t take long for either Angel or Faith to gather their things, while he made a quick call to Giles to let him know that Adam had been taken care of. When he got off the phone, they were both standing by the door.

 

“We’d better go,” Angel said awkwardly. “If we want to make it back before daylight.”

 

Spike nodded. “Yeah. I’ll give your regards to Buffy.”

 

Faith hesitated, then blurted out, “Look, tell B to let me know if she needs anything. I owe her one.” She was out the door in the next moment, telling Angel over her shoulder that she’d be waiting in the car.

 

Spike stared at him. “Same goes here, yeah?”

 

Angel nodded. “Spike, look—” He cleared his throat. “Take care of her.”

 

“You know I will.”

 

“It’s the only reason I’m leaving you in one piece.”

 

Their eyes met, and Spike realized that a bit of the old feeling was back—from when he’d first been turned, and Angelus had been almost like a brother. A really nasty older brother, of course, but still family.

 

Angel turned and left without saying another word, and Spike slowly shut the door behind him, staring at the wood grain. He was suddenly struck by the need to see Buffy, to give her the good news. Joyce would probably kill him if he called and woke everyone up, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, now, would it?

 

~~~~~

 

“You okay?” Angel asked as he slid behind the wheel of the convertible.

 

Faith shrugged. “Five by five.” There was a long pause. “How is this going to work?” she suddenly demanded. “I don’t even know where I’m going to be staying. I can’t sleep on your couch forever, and Cordelia hates me, so that’s out.”

 

“We’ll figure something out,” Angel said calmly.

 

“And Wes—” Faith huffed. “You did say he’s working with you, right?”

 

“He’s changed a lot, too, Faith. Everyone has.”

 

“Except for me,” she muttered.

 

“I don’t think that’s true.”

 

She stared off into the darkness as the car picked up speed on the highway, dark hair whipping around her face. “It’s one thing to deal with an emergency,” she began slowly. “It’s something else to… Whatever.”

 

“Face the future?” Angel suggested.

 

She shrugged, clearly unwilling to talk about it, which didn’t surprise him. He was surprised she’d been as open as she had with him.

 

“Cordelia and Wesley will get used to the idea,” Angel finally said. “And we’ll figure out sleeping arrangements when we get there. You can stay at my place for now.” When she remained silent, he asked, “Is there anything else you’re worried about?”

 

Faith shook her head. “No. I’m good.”

 

He couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her mind, but there was no prying it out of her before she was ready.

 

Angel just hoped that he was right, and Cordy and Wes would get used to the idea before too long. Faith certainly didn’t need anybody giving her a hard time at the moment.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy rolled over once again, staring at the clock. Where was Spike? She’d thought he would let her know once everything was okay, or not. He’d told her not to worry, and to get some sleep, but she wouldn’t be able to rest easy until she knew he was okay, and Adam was gone.

 

There was a soft knocking on the window, and she glanced over just in time to see him slide it up and slip inside the room. “Hey,” he called softly. “Thought you were supposed to be asleep.”

 

“I can’t sleep,” she replied. “Is Adam—”

 

“Gone.” He settled himself on the edge of her bed. “No one was really hurt except for him. Everything worked just like we expected.”

 

Buffy felt the relief crash through her. “Good.”

 

“Faith and Angel already took off, so I thought I’d come by.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Already?”

 

“Faith said she hated goodbyes, and to let her know if you needed anything. She seems to think she owes you.” Spike’s lips curved slightly. “Don’t think Angel much wanted to go through the farewell scene either.”

 

She nodded. “I guess I get that.”

 

He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Just thought I should let you know. I’ll—”

 

“You’ll stay right here,” Buffy said, grabbing his hand and refusing to let go.

 

“Your mum—”

 

“Will deal. Or you can get up really early and leave, but I need you here, Spike.” She rarely allowed anyone to see her vulnerability; even Spike, who had seen her at her worst, didn’t often see her let down her walls.

 

He looked a little puzzled, but smiled, bending over to unlace his boots. “Yeah, sure. I can stay, luv.”

 

Buffy moved over to give him room, letting out a contented sigh when he’d settled in next to her. “Thank you.”

 

“You comfortable?”

 

“Much better now.” She closed her eyes. “Tell me what happened.”

 

“I think that can wait until morning,” he said. “You need your rest.”

 

“Please?”

 

She could feel him sigh, and his hand began stroking her hair soothingly. “Isn’t much to tell, really. We got there, and Graham was waiting for us with some friends. One of them was your favorite—Forrest, I think.”

 

Buffy snorted in disgust. “Did he give you any trouble?”

 

“Nothing I wasn’t able to handle,” Spike replied. “Anyway, we went into the cave system. The soldiers opened up fire on Adam as soon as they spotted him. That put him back a step, and then Angel and me took him down. Faith pulled out his battery, and then Forrest opened fire on us. Lucky for Faith, I was in between her and the bullets.”

 

“What then?” Buffy already knew that he was okay, as were Faith and Angel, so she knew there was a satisfactory resolution. Besides, she remembered that Forrest had acted like a jackass on occasion, so his actions weren’t a surprise.

 

“Graham stopped him, told him off good and proper.”

 

“I always liked him.”

 

“I can see why.”

 

“What are we going to do about the Initiative? Do you think playing dirty tricks will work?”

 

“If it doesn’t, I say we go with the original plan,” Spike said. “That way, they’ll have been given a warning.”

 

“I don’t think they’d see it that way.”

 

“And I don’t much care.”

 

Buffy could hear the ire in his tone, and she ran circles on his chest soothingly. “We’ll just have to see.” She smiled. “We’ve got the summer off anyway.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“Unless something unexpected comes up, there won’t be anything exciting until Dracula shows up.”

 

Spike grunted. “He’d better keep his grubby, Euro-trash hands to himself this time. He still owes me eleven pounds.”

 

“Why?”

 

“He needed it to get out of a tight fix, and I was flush at the time. I should have let him burn.”

 

“Well, if you really want to, you can kill him this time.”

 

“I might just do that.”

 

“’kay.”

 

“Go to sleep, luv,” Spike said softly. “I’m staying right here.”

 

Buffy didn’t need to be told twice.

 

~~~~~

 

“M-m-me?” Tara asked incredulously. “Go to England?”

 

“Miss Harkness asked after you especially,” Giles replied. “I’m afraid I don’t have much more information than that.”

 

Tara shook her head. “I—I can’t afford it,” she said in a low voice. “I have to work this summer, and—”

 

“It will be taken care of.” Giles looked very smug. “It was a condition.”

 

“A condition of what?” Willow asked, frowning. “I don’t understand.”

 

“The coven has always done quite a bit for the Council, but it’s always been the Council that relies upon the coven, and not the other way around,” Giles explained. “The coven was not pleased to hear that Travers sent men after Faith to kill her, and they’ve made certain demands. One of those demands was to cover your travel expenses, as they’ve decided that it’s a good idea to have a small coven near the Hellmouth.”

 

Willow’s eyes widened. “We’re going to have a coven?”

 

“Something like that.” He smiled at them. “From what Miss Harkness has said, she will be sending at least one person back with you.”

 

Tara was still trying to process the offer. It was an amazing opportunity, of course, but she usually worked during the summers to avoid having to work during the school year. Even if her travel expenses were covered, she didn’t know how she would be able to pay for everything.

 

“When would we leave?” Willow asked.

 

“The first of June, I believe, and you would stay until mid-August.” He looked at Tara with concern. “Will that work for you?”

 

It was too good an opportunity to pass up, and Tara knew it. Although it might put her in a financial bind next year, she could always find a part-time position. She’d heard that the university library paid well, and that they encouraged student-workers to study when things were slow. “I think I can make it work,” she said slowly.

 

Giles nodded, satisfied. “Yes, well, if you need any help, let me know. I’m sure we can work something out.”

 

Tara appreciated the offer, but she wasn’t going to ask for assistance, not from a near stranger. Not that Mr. Giles wasn’t perfectly nice, but she’d been getting by on her own for a long time now. “Thank you,” was all she said, however.

 

As they left Giles’ apartment, Willow glanced over at her. “Are you worried?”

 

“I usually work during the summers,” Tara admitted.

 

The other girl frowned. “Oh. You can get student loans, right?”

 

Tara sighed. “Yes, but I have out of state tuition, and loans and grants don’t cover everything.”

 

“What if we shared expenses?” Willow asked.

 

Tara’s eyes widened. “What?”

 

“Well, Oz and I have been talking about getting an apartment,” Willow explained. “A two bedroom isn’t that much more expensive than a one bedroom, and split between three people, it would be really cheap.”

 

Tara wasn’t sure what to think about that option. It would solve some of her money problems, but she didn’t know how she felt about sharing such close quarters with Willow and Oz—especially since they were Willow _and_ Oz.

 

“Think about it,” Willow urged. “I’m going to put my stuff in storage over the summer, and Oz won’t start looking until later.”

 

Tara nodded. “Okay.”

 

“It’s crazy to think that we’ll be spending the summer in England,” Willow said, a smile spreading across her face. “Just think how much we’ll be learning!”

 

Tara was more nervous than excited, but she just smiled, not mentioning her worries. She didn’t want to be thought a coward, and perhaps those in the coven would be able to give her answers about her blood. Her father had been adamant, and yet—

 

She had seen so much, and very few things were as her dad had claimed. Tara decided that she would take this opportunity, and she would make the most of it.


	32. Summer Sun

“And now we know the answer to the question,” Buffy said.

 

“The answer to what question?”

 

“Will you freckle?”

 

Spike let out a short bark of laughter and rolled onto his side. “And what answer is that?”

 

“No, but you don’t really tan either.” Buffy began rubbing more tanning lotion on her arms, unsurprised when Spike took over.

 

“Let me do that.” He looked around. “Where did everybody get to?”

 

“They’re in the water,” Buffy responded. “You were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

He shrugged. “Still feels wrong to be awake in the middle of the day.”

 

“And yet you do an admirable job.”

 

“Have to see my girl sometime, don’t I?”

 

“Look who’s awake!” Xander said as he and Anya approached. He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. “You guys getting hungry?”

 

“I am,” Buffy said. “Spike?”

 

“Long as my burger is rare,” he said amiably.

 

Xander pulled a face. “We’re going to have to make it look cooked,” he pointed out. “Otherwise the neighbors will talk.”

 

“Talk about what?” Willow asked, plopping down on her towel.

 

“Spike’s uncooked meat,” Anya said. She gave the vampire a curious look. “I don’t think I’ve ever known another vampire who ate anything other than blood.”

 

Spike shrugged. “You blend in better when you do,” he pointed out, “And there’s nothing that says we can’t. It’s just we don’t need it.” He gave her a quick grin. “Of course, when you get right down to it, you don’t _need_ sex either, but I don’t know of anybody who’d willingly give that up.”

 

Anya opened her mouth to say something, and Xander quickly jumped in. “Anybody else hungry?” She rolled her eyes, knowing when her boyfriend was attempting to change the subject.

 

“So, are you guys ready to go?” Buffy asked Tara and Willow.

 

Willow grinned. “Yep. I don’t know if we’ll get much chance for sight-seeing, but I’ve made a list of places we could see, just in case.”

 

Tara ducked her head. “I think so.”

 

“You’ll be fine, pet,” Spike said encouragingly.

 

Buffy never failed to be amazed at how gentle Spike could be—when he wanted. He seemed to have taken responsibility for Tara, since Willow was still with Oz, and it looked to stay that way. “What are you going to do this summer, Oz?”

 

He shrugged. “We’ve got some gigs up and down the coast, so I’ll stay pretty busy.”

 

Xander sighed. “Which means I’ll be the only one working.”

 

“Not the only one,” Buffy said, shooting a look over at Spike.

 

The vampire’s eyes narrowed. “Summers—” he said, his tone a warning.

 

She just grinned. “What?”

 

“Wait.” Xander looked up from his attempts to light the charcoal in the fire pit. “Spike has a job?”

 

“It’s not a job,” Spike growled.

 

Buffy smirked. “You’re getting paid, aren’t you?”

 

“What are you doing?” Anya leaned forward, looking interested. “I haven’t yet decided what I’d like to do.”

 

“I’m just doing someone a favor,” he said, clearly trying to end the questions, but Willow’s curiosity had been stirred, and she kept pressing for answers.

 

Buffy grinned. The truth was that Spike had rescued a perfectly harmless demon from one of the remaining Initiative patrols, and he now had a rather booming business in the security field. With the ring, he was nearly invulnerable, and with the soul, he was a lot more trustworthy than most vampires. Even the fact that he was dating the Slayer wasn’t enough to dissuade his clients.

 

Of course, since most of them just wanted to be left alone, Buffy had no problem obliging them. She was, after all, a _vampire_ Slayer. There was nothing in her contract about demons.

 

Not unless they started causing trouble.

 

“You’re running errands for demons?” Xander finally asked incredulously. “Why?”

 

“Why not?” Anya jumped in before Spike could reply. “It’s perfectly reasonable.”

 

Buffy nodded. “She’s right, Xan. Wait until you meet Clem. He’s really nice.”

 

“It’s just—demons,” Xander muttered.

 

Buffy hoped that it didn’t take him quite as long this time to figure out how many shades of gray there were, especially when talking about humans and demons.

 

~~~~~

 

“Okay, I think I’ve got everything,” Willow said, looking around her for any last minute additions.

 

Oz was watching her with ill-concealed amusement. “You’re going to be fine.”

 

Willow plopped down on her bed. She was storing most of her things at her parents’ house for the summer, and was trying to take only a bare minimum of items. Giles had told her that the coven would provide the books and other magical ingredients she would need.

 

“Am I?” she asked quietly. “What if—” She wanted to ask what if she couldn’t be helped. What if the possible future she’d seen couldn’t be altered. If that was true—if that’s the person she was going to turn into—Willow would much rather have the coven take her magical abilities away.

 

Far better to be ordinary, geeky Willow Rosenberg, than to turn into the monster she’d seen.

 

“What are you really worried about?” Oz asked softly.

 

“That what I saw will come true.”

 

“Not gonna happen.” He touched her cheek gently. “You’ve heard Buffy and Spike talking. You know how much has changed already.”

 

“Yeah.” Willow took a deep breath. Oz was right, of course. “You’ll write me?”

 

“Sure. I’ll even email if you’ll have access.”

 

She leaned forward, kissing him desperately. They hadn’t had nearly enough time together over the past few weeks since he’d returned. Oz had been gone for months, and now she was going away. He held her tightly, returning her embrace with the same desperation. It was that, more than anything he’d said, that told Willow he would miss her as much as she would miss him.

 

Knowing that was somehow reassuring.

 

When they broke off the kiss to breathe, Oz glanced over at the clock. “We’ve got to go if you’re going to make your flight.”

 

Willow nodded. “Okay.”

 

She’d said goodbye to the others the previous day, not really wanting a big leave-taking at the airport. Willow didn’t feel like this trip was a reward, and she didn’t want to treat it as such.

 

Willow wasn’t surprised to see Spike and Buffy there with Tara, however. They both seemed protective of Tara witch in a way that didn’t quite make sense to her, but Willow wasn’t sure she wanted to know the reasons behind it. She didn’t think she’d like the answer.

 

Buffy came over to give her a hug as soon as she saw her. “Take care of yourself, Will.”

 

“You too,” Willow said. “Be careful with the Initiative this summer, okay?”

 

Spike smiled. “We’ve got a man on the inside now, and they aren’t going to mess with us.”

 

Buffy hugged Tara, too, then both of them headed out.

 

Oz gave Willow one last kiss. “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his.

 

After a few moments, they pulled apart, and Willow looked at Tara. “Are you ready?”

 

Tara nodded, not saying anything. Willow thought she might be too nervous to speak, and she couldn’t blame the other girl. They were both entering unfamiliar territory.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy stretched slowly, feeling the quiet ache in her muscles that told her she’d had a good workout. She was finally fully healed; it felt as though it had taken her forever to get back into shape after her long convalescence.

 

“You heard from Faith yet?” Spike asked, lounging against the wall.

 

She straightened, then went into a back bend, feeling the scar tissue on her stomach stretch, although it wasn’t painful. “Not yet. I wasn’t really expecting to.”

 

“What about Angel?”

 

“Angel and I didn’t talk after he moved to L.A.,” Buffy reminded him. “He would show up out of the blue, or I would go down to yell at him about something, but we didn’t stay in touch.” She kicked up into a handstand, then tucked into a roll.

 

“Thought you might have talked to him is all,” Spike explained. “To see how Faith is doing.”

 

Buffy sat down on the floor of her basement, cross-legged, waiting patiently for Spike to join her. “Why? It’s not my business now. Faith is responsible for herself, and Angel’s looking out for her.” She grinned maliciously. “Although, I’d love to see the fireworks between her and Cordelia.”

 

Spike stretched out on the floor next to her, staring up at the ceiling. “Things with the Initiative may yet get nasty, luv.”

 

“I know.” Buffy realized that the failure to completely shut the operation down, at least in Sunnydale, might prove to be a problem down the road. For the moment, at least, she and Spike had an uneasy truce with the soldiers. The patrols didn’t mess with them while they were out, and seemed to be staying out of their way, preferring to stick close to the campus.

 

That was all well and good, but Buffy knew that they would eventually run into a group of soldiers that wasn’t so understanding, particularly if a harmless demon got caught in between.

 

Last time they’d seen Graham, he’d told them that there were rumors that the army was planning on transferring the operation, or at least reducing the number of soldiers stationed in Sunnydale. Apparently the Hellmouth in Cleveland was worse, and demand for mobile units was rising. Those had been his words, and Buffy knew she’d be relieved if it happened.

 

So far, they hadn’t been forced to make a tough decision, but it might yet come to that. They would need Willow to be successful, however, and so it was at least postponed until the end of the summer.

 

“You thought about taking a vacation this summer?”

 

Buffy looked over at him in surprise. “A vacation?”

 

“Yeah, getting out of Sunnydale, seeing some other part of the world.” He smirked. “I’ve got the dosh to take care of it.”

 

“Where would we go?”

 

“Where do you want to go?”

 

Buffy stared at him. “You’re serious. What about the Hellmouth?”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not let the Initiative handle it? Let them be useful for a change. It’s not like we’d be gone for that long; a week at most.”

 

She considered the idea. Buffy hadn’t had a real vacation in—well, pretty much ever. She knew her dad had been planning to take them to Europe before the divorce, but then she’d been called, and things had gotten crazy.

 

“I don’t know.” Buffy thought for a minute. “It would be kind of silly to go somewhere else with a beach.”

 

“We could try the mountains,” Spike suggested. “Or New York City. It’s an interesting place.”

 

“You’ve been everywhere, haven’t you?”

 

“Not quite, but close.” He gave her a lazy smile. “What do you say?”

 

Buffy considered her options: staying in Sunnydale the entire summer, or going somewhere that might actually be fun. It was an easy choice. “Maybe a long weekend?” she suggested.

 

“Yeah, sure. Where to?”

 

“New York,” Buffy said. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

 

“Then we will. I can show you the sights.”

 

Buffy drank in the sight of him stretched out on the floor, chest bare, hair mussed, and she felt her love of him swell up and overflow. It struck her sometimes—how far they’d come, how much she loved him, how good things were between them. “I love you.”

 

His face lit up. “I love you, too.”

 

~~~~~

 

Xander swiped his arm over his forehead and glanced up at the sky. The sun was getting low enough on the horizon that he was pretty sure it was nearly time to go home for the day, and he was grateful. It had been almost unbearably hot over the last week, and he hadn’t been able to do much more than collapse once he got home.

 

Much to Anya’s displeasure.

 

“Harris!”

 

He looked up to see his boss standing there. “Yeah?”

 

“Go home. We’re done for the day.”

 

“Sure thing.” Xander put his tools away, and even though he was exhausted, he still felt a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. His dad had always said he’d never amount to anything, and it looked like he was going to prove the old man wrong.

 

Climbing into his car, he turned on the air conditioning full blast, and was just beginning to get the benefit by the time he pulled up in front of his parents’ house. It was probably time to think about finding another place to stay. This job seemed to be pretty solid; he liked it, and the pay was good. From what Buffy had said, he’d be at it for a while, and it would be something he’d be happy doing.

 

And anywhere would be better than the basement.

 

He stripped off his grimy, sweaty clothing and immediately headed for the shower. This had been the first summer Xander had spent the bulk of his time working, and certainly was the first summer he’d spent without Willow since kindergarten. He couldn’t help but feel slightly left out, with Willow in England, Oz on tour, and Buffy and Spike in New York for the weekend.

 

Xander was here, trapped in Sunnydale. The only time he’d tried to get out, to see the fifty states, he’d been stuck in Oxnard for the summer, at the Fabulous Ladies’ Nightclub. And that was a story that would never be told.

 

“Xander?”

 

“I’m in the shower, An!” he called back, grateful for the one ray of light in an otherwise dull summer.

 

He heard the bathroom door open. “Are you too tired for orgasms tonight?”

 

Xander had never thought it possible, but there had been a couple of nights recently where that had been the case. Not tonight, though, since he knew that he’d have the next day off. “No, I’m good. I’m hungry, though.”

 

“I brought that chicken you like so much,” she replied.

 

Xander felt a warm glow. Anya had been doing that a lot lately. Every time he started to feel sorry for himself, she’d say something or do something—or just _look_ at him, and he’d start to feel as though he were the luckiest man on earth.

 

“I’ll be out in a minute,” he called, quickly rinsing off and turning off the water. Sunnydale might not be the best place in the world, but at least he was in good company.

 

~~~~~

 

“Iced tea?”

 

Giles accepted the glass with a smile. “Thank you, Joyce. How have you been?”

 

“Oh, fine,” Joyce replied. “I thought I’d have a little more time with Buffy, though.”

 

He smiled. “Did you mind her going to New York?”

 

“Not at all!” She paused. “Well, a little bit. It’s hard to remember sometimes that she’s not really nineteen, even though she looks it.”

 

“Indeed,” Giles murmured. “It’s quite remarkable.”

 

She gave him a searching look. “What brought you by today? I know you said you wanted to talk with me, but—”

 

“I—it’s—to be honest, it had been a while since I’d seen you, and I thought I’d visit.” Giles could feel himself blushing. In truth, he hadn’t enjoyed spending time with a woman quite this much since Jenny had been alive. The attraction was different, but it was still there.

 

Joyce blushed charmingly. “Well, I’ve always enjoyed the time we’ve spent together,” she admitted. “I certainly appreciate how much you’ve done for Buffy, particularly since Hank…” She trailed off. “Well, I know she’s quite fond of you.”

 

“As I am of her,” Giles responded, sipping his tea. He never would understand the American penchant for putting everything on ice, but he was growing used to the idea. In California, anyway, a cold drink was quite refreshing.

 

A silence fell, although it was more companionable than awkward. “Do you want to stay for dinner?” Joyce asked.

 

“Of course,” he said immediately. “I’d love to.”

 

~~~~~

 

Tara watched as Willow wiped the sweat out of her eyes. “Again,” Miss Harkness ordered. “Control, Miss Rosenberg.”

 

“Here.”

 

She glanced up at Mairead, taking the cup of tea she held out gratefully. “Thank you.”

 

“She’s doing quite well, you know,” Mairead said softly. “It took me weeks to successfully complete that exercise, and she might get it today.”

 

“Tell that to Willow,” Tara replied with a rueful smile. “She doesn’t think it’s a success unless she gets it on the first try.”

 

The other witch shook her head. “That’s where you and she differ most, and that is why you did accomplish it the first time out.”

 

“Willow’s more powerful than I am,” Tara replied dismissively. “She has a harder time with control for a reason.”

 

“So modest.” Mairead smiled coyly. “It is one of your many endearing qualities.”

 

Tara blushed furiously. Although she’d sensed that the other woman might be interested in her as more than a friend, this had been the first time she’d been quite so open about it. Too embarrassed to reply, Tara looked back over at Willow, who was finally making progress.

 

The red haired witch stood in the center of a circle, colored smoke drifting up from the four points of the compass around her. The exercise was completed outdoors, and the slight breeze made it very difficult to keep the four different colored plumes distinct.

 

The exercise was all about control, and being completely in tune with the wind. Both of them had been doing similar things since they’d arrived, dealing with all four of the elements. To her surprise, Tara had been better than Willow at accomplishing the various tasks; she’d done similar things with her mother as a child, when she’d viewed it as a game.

 

It appeared as though her mom had trained her carefully, and almost from birth, without Tara ever being aware of it. Willow hadn’t had the same advantage, and her sheer power had made her so self-assured that she’d found it very hard going from the start.

 

As she watched, the plumes of smoke suddenly coalesced into four separate lines, streaming steadily upwards.

 

“Very good,” Miss Harkness said. “Very good, indeed, Miss Rosenberg.”

 

Willow nodded, clearly near exhaustion, although she waited until the smoke disappeared before letting her guard down. “Thanks,” she said hoarsely.

 

“You should eat something,” Miss Harkness said. “I’ll have something different for both of you tomorrow.”

 

Willow’s shoulders drooped as she made her way over to where Tara and Mairead were sitting. “Here,” Mairead said, handing her a tall glass. “That should help.”

 

Willow sipped slowly. “Thanks. Do you know what she was talking about? Something different?”

 

Mairead looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, no. Even if I did, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to tell you.”

 

“I thought you did really well,” Tara offered, knowing that Willow had been feeling pretty down. Tara had always known that she wasn’t very powerful, and that she didn’t know half of what she needed to know, but Willow was different. Being around the witches of the coven had taught her how far she had yet to go, and how difficult the road would be, if she wanted to do it right.

 

Willow smiled. “Thanks. I’m going to get cleaned up. Oz was supposed to call me tonight.”

 

Tara watched her go anxiously. It was probably a good thing that Willow was with Oz, and not her. She didn’t think that their relationship would have survived, not with their wildly different abilities.

 

“It’s harder for her than it is for you,” Mairead observed.

 

Tara shrugged. “My mom taught me a lot more than I ever knew.”

 

“You miss her.”

 

“So much.” She looked around the grassy clearing that the coven used for all their outdoor spell casting. “She would have loved it here. If she’d known a place like this existed…” Tara trailed off, unable to complete the thought.

 

If her mom had known, she might never have stayed with her dad. Maybe she would still be alive.

 

“Was it hard, leaving your family to come here?”

 

Tara shook her head. “I left a long time ago. It was hard to leave Sunnydale, though,” she admitted. “I had friends there for the first time.”

 

“Anyone special?”

 

Tara knew Mairead was flirting again, and this time she decided to face it head on. “No, there wasn’t.”

 

The other woman reached out, touching her cheek gently. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while.”

 

A smile curved Tara’s lips. “Okay.”

 

It turned out that England had a lot to offer.


	33. Homecoming

Spike still wondered sometimes if he was dreaming, and this was one of those occasions. He and Buffy had just spent the evening patrolling, after dinner with her mother, and they had wound up at his place. Now he lay, tired but by no means exhausted, Buffy in his arms.

 

Her fingers were rubbing unconscious circles on his chest, and he held her close, reveling in the moment. By now Spike knew how few and far between such moments were.

 

“I wish summer could last forever.”

 

Buffy’s voice cracked a little, and Spike knew why; there were events coming which could not be stopped, and which would likely test them. “I know.”

 

“Dawn should be coming soon.” She paused. “Do you—do you think we’ll remember?”

 

Spike didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know. I think so.”

 

She clutched at him a little. “I know we’ve dealt with everything that’s come up so far, Spike, but—”

 

When she stopped, he tightened his embrace, knowing exactly what it was she couldn’t say. The previous version of the coming year had been horrible in so many ways. “It’s gonna be okay,” he promised.

 

“What if it isn’t?”

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. Spike couldn’t tell her how scared he was of losing her or of losing Joyce or Dawn. Or any of the others. The soul that allowed him to care for those outside his immediate circle would also likely make his grief that much greater should the worst happen. “We’ll get through it.”

 

Buffy propped herself up to look him in the eye. “I want you to promise me something.”

 

He already knew what it was, just from the expression on her face. “Buffy—”

 

“Please, Spike.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“If something happens to me—if I have to die—take care of them?”

 

Her sheer bravery never ceased to amaze him. She knew that death could still await, and she faced it willingly. He could do no less, whether the death was hers—or his.

 

Spike would much prefer the latter.

 

“I promise. You know you didn’t have to ask.”

 

“I know.” She laid back down, taking up her prior position. “Tara and Willow come back tomorrow. Are you coming to the airport with us?”

 

“Yeah, why not?” he replied lightly, as though they hadn’t just been speaking of endings. “Wouldn’t mind meeting this witch they’re bringing back with them.”

 

“What do you think she’ll be like?” Buffy asked idly, as though not really expecting an answer. “Willow said that Tara and her are pretty friendly.”

 

“Good for Tara,” Spike replied sincerely. “If this girl makes Glinda happy, then I won’t have any complaints.”

 

Buffy murmured her agreement. Spike could sense that she was just about to fall asleep. “Graham wanted to talk to us tomorrow, too. He wants to meet at the Espresso Pump around noon.”

 

“Flight doesn’t come in until later,” Spike said. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

“I hope he sticks around.” Buffy nuzzled him. “I like him.”

 

“Not a bad bloke,” Spike agreed noncommittally.

 

She didn’t reply, and he realized that she’d succumbed to sleep. Spike couldn’t say that he cared one way or another if Graham stayed, as long as some of the more closed-minded elements of the Initiative left town. Although he could see that having them around might be an advantage with Glory and the Knights on the way, Spike thought they were more trouble than they were worth at the moment.

 

Granted, some of his business would dry up once they were gone, but he had loyal clients who trusted him now. There were plenty of demons who would still use his services to ferry important items from one place to another, or to provide security. The fact that he could guarantee that the Slayer wouldn’t interfere certainly hadn’t hurt his reputation any.

 

No, he hoped that the Initiative reduced their presence in Sunnydale, as Graham suspected they would. Spike knew that Buffy had enough on her plate right now, knowing what was to come, without having to worry about keeping the soldiers off their backs.

 

Spike shifted a bit to get a little more comfortable, then settled down to sleep. There was too much to do, and too many things to worry about at present. All they could do was to take things a day at a time.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara packed slowly, hardly able to believe that the summer had already been and gone. She’d learned so much while she was here, and had discovered so many things that she’d never known about herself. It was going to be very hard to leave, no matter how much she was looking forward to going back to her friends.

 

There were days when Tara could envision herself spending her life doing something like this—immersed in magic, surrounded by like-minded women, helping to keep the world spinning.

 

“How are you?”

 

She turned to see Mairead in the doorway. “Good. I just have a few more things to pack.”

 

“Do you not want to leave?”

 

Tara thought about the question. “Yes and no. This place has been—amazing, but I think we’re needed in Sunnydale, and I have friends there, too.” She smiled shyly. “And _you’re_ coming. I’d be a lot more reluctant to leave if you were staying here.”

 

Mairead smiled brightly. “I had wondered. I didn’t know if—”

 

Tara cut her off with a lingering kiss, the other woman’s lips soft and sweet beneath her own. “I’m so glad you’ll be there with me.”

 

The witch nodded. “I had always planned to go, but after meeting you, it was no longer duty that called me.”

 

Tara resisted the urge to kiss her again. They had to leave for the airport shortly, and it wouldn’t do to get distracted. “Are you sure you don’t mind living with Willow and Oz? I know it’s a little awkward.”

 

“Why would it be awkward?” Mairead said, sounding puzzled. “Willow and I get along, and from what you’ve both told me about Oz, that won’t be a problem. Besides, it’s a house we’ll be renting, and there’ll be plenty of room for the four of us.”

 

Tara nodded slowly. She was still having trouble believing that something this good was for real, that she was going back to Sunnydale to live with her girlfriend, and her friends, in a house they were renting together.

 

She had known others who had made similar housing arrangements, and she’d always envied them. Although she enjoyed her solitude, Tara needed company on occasion, but she’d never thought to be in a position to be literally surrounded by friends.

 

“I want to do this,” Mairead said quietly. “When Gertrude asked for volunteers to go, I was the first. And this will make it easier on you.” She added after a moment’s hesitation, “We can always come back later, if you want.”

 

Tara looked at her in surprise. “I thought that it was invitation only.”

 

“Then consider this an invitation.”

 

She blinked. “And Willow?”

 

“Willow is needed elsewhere, as are we,” Mairead replied evenly. “But one day, we will be able to choose. You may not want to come back— _we_ might not want to. If either of us choose that path, however, it will be open to us.”

 

Tara stared down into her suitcase, as though it would reveal the future. She knew that she was going back to face scary events, and that people might die. She also knew that her family would likely show up in Sunnydale very soon, although that didn’t frighten her much these days. She’d found the strength within herself to face them.

 

It had always been there, of course; she just hadn’t known about it.

 

“I guess we’ll just have to see,” she finally said, and shut her ancient, battered suitcase with a thump.

 

Mairead smiled. “I suppose we will.”

 

~~~~~

 

Graham sipped at his iced coffee experimentally. He preferred it black, but it had been too warm for a hot beverage, and he knew it would look strange if he didn’t order anything. The entire point of meeting at midday at the Espresso Pump was to be as inconspicuous as possible.

 

Of course, when he’d set up the meeting, he hadn’t realized that Forrest had alerted their superiors about his relationship with the Slayer and her boyfriend. He’d believed that it was important to keep a low profile, but it seemed that was no longer necessary.

 

Graham thought about the shiny new captain’s bars that waited for him in his quarters. The promotion had come as a surprise, even though it made sense since he was taking command of a much-reduced squad here.

 

Forrest had appeared smug enough about it that Graham suspected it wasn’t much of a promotion; it was likely a dead-end street.

 

He didn’t mind, though; not really. As long as he was making a difference, it didn’t matter what insignia he wore, or who his allies were.

 

“Hey, Graham.” Buffy slid into the seat across from him, offering him a friendly smile. “What’s up?”

 

He watched as Spike took the seat next to her, putting a couple of drinks down on the table. “The Initiative is being moved out of Sunnydale,” he said without preamble.

 

Spike’s eyebrow went up, although he didn’t appear too surprised. “Really? Why is that?”

 

Graham shrugged; he hadn’t been privy to all the reasons behind it, although he had a few educated guesses. “The mission has changed. It’s been pretty quiet here recently, and there are other hotspots.” He hesitated, knowing that he probably shouldn’t share more information than that, but he trusted these two. Rightly or wrongly. “The top brass weren’t pleased with the results of Professor Walsh’s research; they’re going back to the original mission.”

 

“Which was?” Buffy asked, a trace of acid in her tone.

 

“Protecting civilians from—” Graham paused, knowing that neither of them liked the terms the Initiative had used for demons and vampires. “Hostile demons,” he finished, settling on a compromise term.

 

Spike’s lips twisted into a sardonic smile, and Graham knew that Spike understood that he was trying to spare their feelings. “Seems like a good plan,” he agreed.

 

“Are you getting transferred, too?” Buffy asked.

 

The concern in her voice warmed him. Graham knew that he’d been walking a fine line in the last months, and it was nice to know that someone appreciated his presence and his efforts. “No. I’ve been promoted.”

 

They both smiled, and Spike spoke first, real warmth in his voice. “Congratulations, mate.”

 

“It’s good to know that you’ll be staying,” Buffy said, then hesitated. “Spike, do you think…”

 

She left her question unfinished, but Spike seemed to understand immediately. “Wouldn’t hurt,” he replied. “It’s up to you.”

 

Graham waited patiently, used to their methods of conversation by now. There had been a few of these semi-secret meetings, and Buffy and Spike always seemed to have a second, silent conversation going on.

 

“Okay.” Buffy met his eyes forthrightly. “Since you’re staying, there are probably some things you ought to know, but this probably isn’t the place to have that conversation. When is this transition taking place?”

 

He didn’t question her motives. Forrest might think he was an idiot, but Graham trusted them. “In two weeks. They’ve already started shutting things down.”

 

“Are you guys staying in Lowell House?” she asked.

 

He shook his head. “It’s too big. The army has a small safe house for us. We’ll bunk there.”

 

“Let us know when you’re in charge then,” Spike said. “We’ll have that talk.” He glanced over at Buffy. “We’d better go if we’re going to meet them.”

 

She smiled. “See you later, Graham.”

 

He nodded his farewell, wondering if the information they wanted to pass along had anything to do with an explanation about how they knew so much. Graham hadn’t forgotten that they’d known exactly how to defeat Adam, or that they seemed to know him much better than their brief acquaintance should have allowed.

 

Smiling, he rose and threw his empty cup into the trash. He had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow rushed off the plane, searching for any sign of Oz. She knew that Tara would follow with Mairead, but they hadn’t been separated from their beloved as she’d been.

 

Oz was standing in the waiting area, hands in his pockets, looking as relaxed as ever. His face broke out in a smile as soon as he saw her. “Hey.”

 

Willow dropped her carry-on bag to throw her arms around him. He returned her embrace with enthusiasm, his tight grip letting her know just how much he’d missed her. “It’s good to see you again,” she said, when they broke apart.

 

“Same here,” Oz replied. “How was the flight?”

 

“Good. Uneventful, just like I like them.” She turned to see Tara and Mairead entering the waiting area. “Where are the others?”

 

“Spike and Buffy should be here,” Oz said. “Xander had to work.”

 

Willow nodded, disappointed that Buffy and Spike hadn’t met them.

 

“Willow!” Buffy’s voice caught her attention, and the Slayer wound her way through the crowd. “I’m sorry we’re late,” she said breathlessly. “We were talking with Graham, and it took us longer to find a parking space than we thought.”

 

Willow returned her hug, and waved at Spike, who was taking Tara and Mairead’s bags. “How was your summer?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “The usual. Slaying, laying on the beach, you know. Nothing very exciting.” She looked at Mairead and held out her hand. “I’m Buffy Summers, and this is Spike. You’ve probably already figured out who Oz is.”

 

“Mairead Harrington,” she said, shaking hands cordially. “It’s very nice to meet all of you.”

 

“Our pleasure,” Spike replied easily. “You lot hungry?”

 

Willow nodded. “Definitely.”

 

“A little bit,” Tara admitted.

 

Buffy smiled. “Good. It’s our treat.”

 

Willow’s eyebrows went up at that, since it was clear that Buffy was referring to Spike and herself. She knew they were dating, but her words made it seem almost like they were—married. “How was New York?” she asked.

 

“Fun!” Buffy grinned broadly. “A lot of fun.”

 

“Fun for you,” Spike grumbled. “Who was the one carrying your shopping bags all day?”

 

“Who was the one who offered?” Buffy asked sweetly.

 

Willow hid a smile at the familiar bickering. It was good to be home.

 

~~~~~

 

“How many were you cooking for, Joyce?” Spike asked with some amusement, coming back for another load.

 

She gave him a stern look. “There _are_ ten of us here for dinner, and you’ve seen Xander eat.”

 

Spike grinned, then glanced around to be sure no one was close enough to overhear. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

 

Joyce frowned. “What is it, Spike? Is everything okay?”

 

“I hope so. That’s what I wanted to ask.” He hesitated. “It’s about Buffy staying with me for the time being. She hasn’t said anything, but I wanted to be sure there weren’t—” Breaking off, Spike sighed. “Just don’t want there to be any hard feelings between us, that’s all.”

 

“There aren’t,” Joyce said softly. “Buffy’s a grown woman, and she’s fully capable of making her own choices.” She smiled, meeting his eyes. “And she could do much worse.”

 

“Thanks.” Spike hadn’t sensed any coldness from her, but he’d wanted to clear the air. Buffy hadn’t told him how her conversation with her mom had gone, only that she was set to move in with him.

 

The arrangement was likely temporary, what with Joyce’s illness that was coming, as well as the mess with Glory and Dawn. It would be easier if she stayed with him until she needed to move back, if it came to that.

 

Joyce patted him fondly on the arm. “Thank you for asking, though. It’s nice to know that my opinion matters.”

 

“Always,” Spike said, then added with a mischievous grin. “Of course, we might not always listen to you.”

 

She laughed and handed him the platter of chicken. “Take that to the table, please.”

 

Spike knew how worried Buffy was; he felt some trepidation himself. At the same time, however, it was hard not to revel in the sense of homecoming. It might not last, but for the moment, things were good.

 

He suspected that Joyce had a bit of magic of her own to be able to seat everyone around the table, and to have made enough food for everyone. Platters were passed around, and while Spike didn’t take much, he ate enough to participate in the meal with everyone else.

 

The Gem of Amara did a lot for him; it allowed him to go out in the daylight, and brought him closer to Buffy, but at times like this, he couldn’t help but remember what he was.

 

“How was England, Will?” Buffy asked, once everyone was eating.

 

Willow smiled. “It was good. I learned a lot.”

 

“And you, Glinda?” Spike asked, with a sly smile. “How did you enjoy it?”

 

Tara glanced shyly at Mairead, seated next to her. “It was good.”

 

“You brought back a fair flower with you,” Spike observed with a wink in Mairead’s direction.

 

Mairead raised an eyebrow. “You found yourself a charmer, Buffy.”

 

“I know it,” Buffy said good-naturedly. “And he’s easy on the eyes, too.”

 

Xander cleared his throat. “When are we going to talk about what happens next?”

 

“I thought we might wait until after dinner,” Giles replied. “Buffy?”

 

“Sounds good to me.” She shot her mom an apologetic look. “You don’t mind if we have our meeting here, right?”

 

“Of course not,” Joyce said. “We can move out to the living room for dessert and coffee.”

After that, the conversation turned to England, with both Giles and Mairead talking about the places they’d grown up, and Willow and Tara discussing what they’d learned while with the coven. Spike noted that Willow was a little quieter than she’d been, and perhaps less self-assured. He suspected that she’d found out she wasn’t quite as brilliant as she’d thought—or at least that there was more to magic than she’d believed.

 

Spike knew that a little humility could be very beneficial at the right time and in the right dose.

 

Once all plates had been cleaned—twice, in Xander’s case—they moved the party out to the living room. Spike settled himself next to the fireplace, leaning against the wall, deciding that it was the better vantage point.

 

“So, what have we got to look forward to?” Xander asked. “I’m guessing that no one is going to win a free trip to Hawaii.”

 

Buffy shrugged. “It could happen, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

 

“Perhaps we should take it one event at a time,” Giles suggested. “What’s coming first?”

 

“Dracula,” Buffy said.

 

“Who is not going to touch you this time,” Spike growled.

 

“I won’t be staying here, so he won’t have a chance,” Buffy said, putting a hand on his arm to soothe him. “Mom, if any tall, dark and handsome men come knocking, don’t invite them inside.”

 

“Handsome?” Spike asked, a little annoyed by her categorization.

 

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Not as hot as you are, Spike.”

 

“And after Dracula?” Giles prompted.

 

Buffy hesitated. “Dawn and Glory. Everything hinges on how we deal with her.”

 

“Who? Dawn?” Joyce asked.

 

“Glory,” Spike supplied. “That’s what we came back to fix.”

 

“How much time do we have before a decision has to be made?” Giles asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. It depends on what we decide to do, I guess.”

 

“We have more firepower this time,” Spike said with a nod to Mairead, “and we’ve got the benefit of information we didn’t have before.”

 

“Why not get out of Dodge?” Oz suggested. “Take your sister and travel for a while.”

 

Giles frowned. “Wouldn’t Glory follow?”

 

“She didn’t know about Dawn,” Buffy said. “Not until the very end, at least. We just have to keep Glory from figuring out who she is until after the stars are aligned or whatever.”

 

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Willow said stoutly. “We’ll just have to keep Dawn away from Glory until it’s safe.”

 

“Until then, I think it would probably be a good idea if you didn’t go out by yourself after dark, Xander,” Buffy said. “That way, you won’t end up as Dracula’s butt-monkey again.”

 

Spike grinned as several voices exclaimed at once, “What?”

 

“Dracula has thrall,” Buffy explained. “It’s probably better if you don’t find out how it works.”

 

Giles nodded. “Then we’re agreed. Xander won’t go out after dark alone, and Joyce won’t invite Dracula inside.”

 

“Wait, why just me?” Xander protested. “Dracula could put his thrall on other people, too!”

 

“Only the weak-minded succumb to Dracula’s thrall,” Spike observed. “Don’t think anybody else qualifies.”

 

Xander’s protests were drowned out by the snickers from everyone else.


	34. Blast from the Past

Willow wandered down the sunlit street hand in hand with Oz, just soaking in the weather and her boyfriend’s presence. She’d loved the rains and mists of England, but she was a California girl, and she’d missed the sun.

 

“How is it being back?” Oz asked softly.

 

“Good.” Willow smiled. “There are things I miss about England, but I missed home a lot more.”

 

“I wondered if you’d want to come back,” he confessed. “The coven sounded pretty cool from your letters.”

 

“It was amazing, but I didn’t fit there.” She frowned. “Tara did a lot better than me.”

 

“She’s been at this a lot longer,” Oz reminded her gently.

 

Willow nodded. “I know. I guess it just hit home that you don’t need a lot of power to practice magic. In some ways, being more powerful makes it harder.”

 

“With great power comes great responsibility?”

 

“Yeah, I guess so.” There was a moment’s pause. “You don’t mind sharing the house with Tara and Mairead, do you? You said you didn’t, but—”

 

“It’s fine,” Oz replied. “I’m used to sharing closer quarters with Devon and the other guys. I like Tara, and Mairead seems nice.”

 

“She is.” Changing the subject, Willow asked, “What else did I miss this summer?”

 

Oz shrugged. “Not much. Spike and Buffy pretty much took care of patrolling. We ended up getting a few more gigs than we’d planned, so we were traveling most of the time. Xander was working, and Anya was with him whenever I saw her. You know how exciting Sunnydale in the summer tends to be.”

 

“I’m glad we didn’t miss anything,” Willow joked.

 

He gave her a sideways glance. “Except me.”

 

“I can’t speak for Tara,” she teased. At his raised eyebrow, “If the daily emails didn’t tell you that I missed you, I don’t know what I would have to do to get that point across.”

 

“I can think of a few things.”

 

Willow grinned. “What are we waiting for?”

 

~~~~~

 

“You know, I’m perfectly capable of taking a patrol by myself,” Buffy said, a little exasperated. Spike had been glued to her side the last few days as they waited for Dracula to show up.

 

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “How long has it been since you’ve gone on patrol by yourself?”

 

Buffy had to acknowledge his point. They’d gone out together almost every night since coming back. It was more than just the need to have someone to watch her back, or vice versa, but more than that it was the desire to spend time together.

 

“Okay, fine, but I’m perfectly capable of taking on Dracula by myself.” Buffy gave him a hard look. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been trying to do this past week.”

 

“What?” He gave her an innocent look. “Told you, the wanker owes me money, and lots of it, when you calculate interest.”

 

Buffy snorted, but she decided that there was no point to arguing with him. “Why didn’t you try to collect from him last time?”

 

“Wasn’t involved,” Spike replied. “Captain Cardboard came by and asked me what I knew, but that was the extent of it. You lot weren’t talking to me much at that point.”

 

“You’d made a pain in the ass out of yourself at that point,” Buffy replied.

 

“I wasn’t in love with you then, so there wasn’t much reason to do otherwise.”

 

His words gave her pause. “When did you fall in love with me?”

 

“Dunno.” His look was measuring. “You gonna tell me when you fell for me?”

 

Buffy sighed. “I don’t know.”

 

Spike snorted. “Right.”

 

“No, really, I don’t know,” Buffy insisted. “I—it probably started after Glory tortured you, but I can’t tell you the moment I was definitely in love with you.”

 

“Took you long enough to admit it.”

 

“I told you as soon as I knew for sure,” Buffy responded. “The only other man I’ve ever been in love with was Angel, and you and he are so different—” She sighed. “When was it for you?”

 

Spike echoed her sigh. “Right after I tried to get the chip out of my head. I had a dream about it. Didn’t want to, though.”

 

“I take it that you’ve resigned yourself to it now, though,” Buffy said, trying to lighten the mood.

 

Spike shrugged and affected a high-class accent. “I do my poor best.”

 

She giggled, then froze, the mood broken as she sensed the presence of a vampire. An old vampire, if she didn’t miss her guess. “All right, Dracula, come on out. I know you’re there.”

 

“Ah, the Slayer. You are even more magnificent that I had heard.” The voice was cultured, if heavily accented. Buffy had been too star-struck the first time to note the arrogant undertone, or to be annoyed by it.

 

She turned slowly, raising an eyebrow. “Dracula. You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.”

 

He blinked, clearly unused to having people—especially women—respond to him that way. ‘Well, tough,’ Buffy thought. She had her own vampire, and she was quite happy with him.

 

“I see you know me,” he said, clearly struggling for some sense of equilibrium.

 

Buffy smirked. “I know you. I also know that you and your little vamp ‘hos aren’t going to be staying in Sunnydale very long. Take my advice and leave before I kill you.”

 

“You won’t kill me,” he said evenly, his self-assurance evident. “Nor will your friend. How are you, William?”

 

“Me? Hell of a lot better than you’re going to be shortly,” Spike replied pleasantly. “And you owe me eleven pounds plus interest, Drac. Don’t be thinking you’re going to stiff me on it.”

 

Dracula smiled thinly. “I don’t recall owing you any money. What you gave me was a gift.”

 

Spike snorted. “I give gifts to people I like. Buffy, what do you want to do with this wanker?”

 

“Well, we could kill him now, or we could storm his castle,” Buffy replied, pretending to think about their options. “Spike? What do you say?”

 

“Hell, I’m in the mood for a tussle.” He was moving before the words were even out of his mouth when Dracula appeared to disappear in a puff of black smoke. “Bugger me,” Spike muttered.

 

Buffy sighed. “We should have known, and now we’ve lost the element of surprise. Do we storm the castle anyway?”

 

Spike frowned, thinking about it. “Not tonight. Think he’d be expecting that. Besides, Drac is traditional. He’ll sleep during the day, and he doesn’t know about—” He stopped.

 

“Spike?”

 

He shook his head. “Let’s go.”

 

Buffy didn’t question him as he led her out of the cemetery and in the direction of her house. “Why?”

 

Spike leaned in close, his mouth mere millimeters from her ear. “You saw him. You _know_ him. Don’t want to risk leading him back.”

 

“Won’t your place be safer?” Buffy whispered.

 

He shook his head. “No. He doesn’t need an invitation.” His eyes narrowed. “Think I’ll be staying tonight, though.”

 

She decided that it would be better not to argue. Buffy had learned that there were times when it was better to let Spike have his own way; letting him win once in a while made it easier on her when the argument was over something _really_ important. Besides, it wasn’t like she minded sleeping in her old bed, as long as Spike was right there with her.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara stepped inside the gallery hesitantly. She had no idea why Buffy’s mom would want to see her; they had spoken perhaps a dozen words to one another since meeting, although Joyce had always been very kind. She certainly appreciated the fact that she’d been included in the holidays and meals everyone else had been invited to, and the woman had been similarly welcoming to Mairead.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Oh, hello, Tara,” Joyce said warmly, poking her head out of the back room. “Come in and flip the sign, would you?”

 

She did as she was asked, turning the sign so that “Closed” would appear from the outside. “Buffy said that you wanted to talk to me.”

 

Joyce smiled. “When I mentioned needing to find a new assistant for the gallery this morning at breakfast, Buffy said that you might be looking for work.”

 

Tara had no idea how Buffy had found out that she was looking for a job, unless Willow had told her. Of course, as close-knit as the group was, it was probably no surprise that word had gotten out. “I am. S-something p-part time, but I don’t know anything about art.”

 

Joyce smiled. “If you’re willing to learn, that’s not a problem. Most of the time, I hire college students, and they don’t usually know all that much about the pieces that I have in here. Mostly it’s helping me keep track of shipments and invoices, and really just being here.”

 

She thought about it for a moment. It seemed almost too good to be true. Jobs were hard to find even at the best of times, and with the emergencies that seemed to come out of the blue, Tara knew that finding an understanding employer would be very important.

 

“We could have a trial period,” Joyce coaxed. “My least favorite thing to do is interview new hires.”

 

When Joyce put it that way, Tara didn’t feel as though she was taking charity. “Okay. We can give it a try.”

 

Joyce nodded, satisfied. “Thank you. When can you begin?”

 

“Whenever you’d like,” Tara replied. “I can give you my class schedule, and we could figure it out.”

 

“That sounds good,” Joyce replied. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll talk.”

 

Tara agreed, then wandered back outside. She had no idea how she’d managed to get so lucky. Never had she had a job just fall into her lap like that, and she already knew that her boss would be nice.

 

She would just have to see how things worked out.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander felt just a little bit guilty for being out after dark. Buffy had made it clear that he was supposed to have company at the very least, but he’d had to work later than usual, and then the guys had invited him out for a beer. It had seemed impolite to refuse, and Xander was beginning to feel as though he had a real future with the company. A certain amount of socializing was necessary.

 

He approached his house warily, keys in hand, alert for anything out of the ordinary.

 

“Xander!”

 

He jumped about six inches, dropping his keys. “What?”

 

Buffy was jogging up to meet him. “What are you doing? I thought I told you not to be out by yourself after dark.”

 

“I was just having a drink with the guys from work,” he replied defensively. “It was no big deal.”

 

She frowned. “You should have called me. I would have walked you home.”

 

“What are you doing here anyway?” Xander asked.

 

Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Knowledge of the future, remember? We saw Dracula last night, and there was a Scooby meeting earlier. We tried to call, but we couldn’t reach you. I figured I’d better make sure you’d made it safely home.”

 

“Oh.” Feeling slightly ashamed of his bad manners, Xander waved at the house. “Do you want to come in?”

 

She shook her head. “No, I’m meeting Spike pretty soon. We’re gonna look for Dracula’s fake castle.”

 

“He has a castle?”

 

“He did last time.” She gave him a look that was both fond and exasperated. “Just be careful, okay? Trust me, you do not want him to get his hooks into you.”

 

“Maybe I should make a hat made of tinfoil?” he suggested in an attempt to make light of the situation.

 

Buffy’s lips twitched. “If I thought it would help, I’d tell you to go for it.”

 

She turned to go, now that he was safely to the door, with the deadbolt unlocked. “Buffy?” he called.

 

She half-turned. “Yeah?”

 

“Be careful.”

 

“Always.”

 

Xander watched her disappear into the shadows, feeling a pang. She was still his ideal, the girl who would always be out of his reach. The sharp pain of rejection had dulled with time, and he had come to accept that his role in her life was limited to that of a friend.

 

There were still moments, though, when regret snuck up on him. Moments when Xander wondered what it was about him that Buffy didn’t think was good enough for her, when she would accept the attentions of a vampire.

 

He heard the crack of a branch, and he turned. “Hello?” The voice in his head that tended to speak up any time he was being stupid immediately began to howl. “Who’s there?”

 

“Someone who can give you your heart’s desire.”

 

Xander knew that he should go inside. Now. In fact, his hand was on the doorknob. He could just turn it, and step inside—

 

Instead, he stepped away from the front door, taking a step into the darkness. “Who are you?”

 

“Do you not recognize me?”

 

That little voice was now gibbering madly, but Xander ignored it. “Can’t say that I do,” he replied, striving for a light-hearted tone. The thought came to him that if he were the one to kill Dracula, Buffy would have to take him seriously. No, more than that. She’d have to respect him.

 

“I am Dracula, and you will be my emissary.” Dracula’s smile was cold, but rather than being repulsed, Xander found him strangely appealing.

 

“Yes, master.” The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. “No, that’s not right,” Xander said, trying to take a step backwards.

 

“Stop. Be quiet.”

 

Xander found himself doing just that, and his fear was swallowed up in a fog of adoration.

 

“You will be my eyes and ears. In return, you will be rewarded with immortality. It is what you want, is it not?”

 

It wasn’t, not really, that little voice whispered, but it was no more than a dying protest. “Yes. Yes, your excellent spookiness. Whatever you want.” Dracula frowned, and Xander amended his response. “Maybe I’ll just stick to master. Of course, master.”

 

Dracula flicked his fingers. “Go. You tire me.”

 

Xander turned to go back inside, then paused. “Wait. How will I find you?” Dracula was already gone, however, and Xander giggled. “Brilliant! What a great exit! He’s a genius.”

 

The little voice in the back of his head was completely silent.

 

~~~~~

 

“Well, this is where it was last time,” Buffy said. “I think.”

 

Spike shook his head. “No offense, luv, but you can’t know for sure that we’re in the right spot. He’d probably muddled your head pretty good.”

 

She grimaced. “Tell me about it. He had me tasting his blood. Which, by the way, _ewww_.”

 

His lips twitched, but he didn’t seem terribly happy. “We’ll just keep looking. It’s easier to cast the illusion over a place of comparable size.”

 

“Do you think we should get help?” Buffy asked. “Finding it, I mean?”

 

Spike thought it over for a minute. “Might be a good idea. Could be that the witches would sense it, though I don’t think they did the first time.”

 

She shook her head. “No, but then again, Willow and Tara hadn’t spent the entire summer in England training with the coven last time.”

 

He nodded. “Let’s go rouse them, then. Sooner we get this taken care of, the happier I’ll be.”

 

“Is everything okay?” Buffy kept her voice light, not wanting to put him on the defensive.

 

“Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?”

 

“I don’t know. I was hoping you’d tell me.” When he remained silent, she added, “I thought we were talking about things like this.”

 

“Maybe not about this.”

 

“Try me?”

 

Spike sighed. “Dracula bit you.”

 

“That depends on how you look at it,” Buffy pointed out. “He didn’t bite _this_ particular body.”

 

He shrugged and stayed silent, clearly not wanting to get into it.

 

“Come on, Spike. We’ve been doing a pretty good job being honest with each other, haven’t we?” He still didn’t reply, and Buffy suddenly realized what it was he didn’t want to tell her. “It’s the biting thing, isn’t it?”

 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Oh, come on. You’re the one who said that it’s always about the blood.”

 

Spike blinked, taken aback. “You remember that?”

 

“I remember pretty much everything you’ve ever said to me,” she replied. “So? Am I right?”

 

“Aren’t you always?” he asked, snorting.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

“I’m not saying I want to bite you,” Spike hastened to assure her. “It’s just that—”

 

“Everyone else has gotten a taste of me, and you haven’t?” Buffy asked wryly. “Well, except for that time when the First had you in its grip.”

 

Spike’s expression clouded. “Yeah.”

 

“That wasn’t your fault,” Buffy said quickly. “What is it about biting, Spike?”

 

“It’s—well, it’s intimate, isn’t it? Vampires live on blood, an’ so to share it is like sharing life itself.” His gaze turned inward. “But it’s different between vampires. I know that.”

 

Buffy thought she understood. “If you wanted to, I would let you. I trust you.”

 

He stared at her, startled. “What?”

 

“I trust you,” she repeated patiently. “I’m not stupid, Spike. I know that you could have bitten me after you found out about the chip not working. You didn’t.”

 

“Didn’t want to hurt you.”

 

“Then you won’t.” Buffy sighed. “Look, we’ve got other things to deal with tonight, but we can talk about this later. Let’s just say that I’m not completely opposed to the idea and leave it at that. If you need it—”

 

“I don’t.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her, and she could see the real happiness on his face. “Just knowing you’d do it—it’s enough, luv.”

 

She nodded. “Good.” Buffy looked up at the house Willow and the others had rented. “Let’s get Dracula taken care of.”

 

“As you wish, Slayer.”

 

~~~~~

 

Mairead hadn’t been sure what to expect in coming to Sunnydale. She’d never been to America before, or any farther than France on holiday. Her family had never had much money, and once she’d settled down to work with the coven, the work had bound her there.

 

Not that witches couldn’t travel, but there had always seemed to be something more important to do. It was one of the main reasons she’d jumped at the chance to go to Sunnydale.

 

Tara had doled out a few tidbits about her background, although she generally changed the subject swiftly when her family was brought up. She’d been a lot more forthcoming about Spike and Buffy. Neither was quite what Mairead had expected.

 

Then again, she’d never met a Slayer, or a vampire with a soul.

 

“Come in,” she said. “I thought you might be coming by tonight.”

 

They exchanged a look and followed her inside the house. “Are Willow and Tara here?”

 

“Willow is at the library getting a head start on her reading,” Mairead replied. “Tara is in our room. I’ll get her.”

 

Oz wandered out into the living room. “Hey, guys.”

 

“Hey, Oz,” Buffy replied. “How’s it going?”

 

He shrugged. “Good. What about you two?”

 

“The search for Dracula continues,” Buffy replied, her voice fading as Mairead headed down the hallway to their bedroom.

 

“Tara? Spike and Buffy are here. I believe they want our help locating Dracula.”

 

Tara frowned. “Do you think we can help them?”

 

“I don’t know, but I’m willing to try if you are.”

 

Tara smiled, her face lighting up. “I don’t mind trying.”

 

Mairead’s heart leapt with the beauty of her. For her, it had been something close to love at first sight. Perhaps love was too strong a term, but she had definitely felt a strong attraction. She watched as Tara pulled her shoes on, then tangled her hand with Tara’s as they went back to the living room.

 

“I hope you guys don’t mind us bothering you,” Buffy said apologetically, as they got ready to leave.

 

“Not at all,” Mairead said firmly. “This is part of the job, yes?”

 

“All too frequently,” Spike muttered, although he winked at Tara. “Much better things to do at night than chase after poncy vampires, isn’t there, ducks?”

 

Tara blushed, but she smiled in agreement. “Much better things to do,” she said.

 

They stood out on the front walk, and Mairead gripped Tara’s hand again. “Ready?”

 

Tara nodded and shut her eyes. They stood there, and Mairead could feel her girlfriend’s quiet strength, as well as Buffy and Spike’s showier talents. Working in tandem, and using the skills they’d both learned under Gertrude Harkness’ tutelage, they focused on locating any flares of power in the area.

 

Creating the illusion of an entire castle was not easy, and it would leave traces.

 

Mairead felt a thrill of satisfaction as they located the spot at the same time. “Got it,” she said, opening her eyes.

 

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. “Great.” She looked over at Spike. “Ready?”

 

“As ever,” he replied, looking at the two witches. “You two up for this, or do you want to give directions?”

 

Mairead glanced at Tara, wordlessly telling her that the decision was hers. “Let’s go,” Tara said boldly. “I think I’d like to meet Dracula.”

 

Spike and Buffy smiled. “Let’s go then,” the Slayer said. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can all go to bed.”


	35. Demon's Lair

It was nearly dawn by the time they called it quits for the night, not having had any success in locating Dracula’s castle. “Crap,” Buffy said, slumping down on a nearby bench.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tara said miserably. “We should have—”

 

“You should have nothing,” Spike broke in firmly. “Bloody bastard has a dozen tricks up his sleeve. You did your best, and that’s all we can ask for.”

 

He saw the little smile Mairead gave him as Tara seemed to perk up a bit at that. “Now what?” Mairead asked.

 

“We go home,” Buffy said. “We’ve been up all night, and there’s no point in continuing. Dracula will have to bed down for the day.”

 

Spike nodded. “We’ll need to chat with the Watcher and the others. Harris won’t be safe yet, not until we locate him. Too bad we couldn’t use him as bait.”

 

Buffy frowned at him. “Spike!”

 

“What? Isn’t that what you did the last time?”

 

“No, Giles and Riley found the castle. They checked out all the ritzy places.” Buffy rubbed her tired eyes. “I thought we hit them all.”

 

Spike’s eyes narrowed in thought. “What about churches?”

 

“What?” Buffy asked.

 

“You have your fair share of abandoned churches in this town,” Spike pointed out. “I should know, since I mapped out most of them for that ritual I had to do.” At her disapproving look, he hurried on. “Be about big enough, and it’s not like you have that many more big houses.”

 

She frowned. “I guess. Maybe Giles could look into that while we catch some sleep.”

 

“I think that would be a real good idea.” He reached down to haul her up from the bench, then did the same for Mairead and Tara, since they had collapsed next to her. “You two head on home,” Spike encouraged. “We’ll talk to Rupert.”

 

Tara grimaced. “I was supposed to talk to Mrs. Summers about the new job today.”

 

“I’ll call Mom and tell her it’s my fault,” Buffy assured her. “It’s not like she can argue with saving the world.”

 

Tara shook her head firmly. “I promised, and I’ll be fine.”

 

Mairead shrugged, as if to indicate that she wasn’t going to be the one to argue. “Will we see you tonight?”

 

Spike nodded. “We’ll be by when the sun goes down,” he promised.

 

There was no reason to walk the two witches home; both were more than capable of taking care of themselves, and said so when the offer was made. Spike and Buffy walked with them until their paths split, then headed towards Giles’ apartment.

 

“He’s not going to be happy about being woken up this early,” Buffy observed as the sun peeked out over the horizon.

 

“He’ll live,” Spike replied, thinking about their wasted night. “How many times do you think this is going to happen?”

 

“What’s going to happen?”

 

“People aren’t going to show up when we expect them.” It hadn’t just been Dracula, after all; the Gentlemen had set up shop in a completely different area than last time.

 

Buffy shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know that he has. I was in a fog the last time he was in town, and Xander and Giles weren’t much better. I think that the only person who knew for sure where Dracula was after everything was over was Riley, and he’s—”

 

“Dead,” Spike finished for her. “Don’t remind me. Never thought I’d miss him,” he muttered.

 

“When are we going to talk to Graham?” Buffy asked. “It had probably better be soon. If we could get the soldiers to help us out with Glory, or the Knights…”

 

She trailed off, but Spike followed her train of thought easily enough. The extra firepower could make all the difference. “Soon as we get Drac taken care of,” he promised. “Think we’ve still got a few days before the rest of the soldiers ship out anyway.”

 

Buffy nodded. “You’re right. First we deal with Dracula, then…”

 

“Dawn?”

 

“I think so,” Buffy said softly. “I mean, I can’t be sure, but…”

 

Spike slung an arm over her shoulders. “We’ll deal with it.”

 

“Have I told you recently how glad I am that you’re here?”

 

“You might have mentioned it.”

 

They stood outside Giles’ door, and Spike pulled her close, touching her lips with his. She deepened the kiss, framing his face with her hands. He knew she was tired, but her enthusiastic response told him that she might not be interested in going straight to bed after they reached his apartment.

 

“We should knock,” Spike murmured when Buffy broke off to breathe.

 

“Mmm.” Buffy kissed him one last time, then knocked on the door reluctantly. After a few moments’ silence, she knocked again, louder this time.

 

Giles came to the door, his eyes bleary. “What the bloody hell is so important at 6 in the morning?”

 

“We couldn’t find Dracula,” Buffy said. “It could make things more interesting.”

 

“Indeed,” Giles sighed. “Come in. I’ll make the coffee.”

 

They filled him in on their activities while he puttered around the kitchen. “I’m not sure how we’re supposed to find him, Giles. Do you think you could—”

 

“Find it again, just like last time?” Giles thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I suppose we’ll have to try.”

 

Spike leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Maybe we should call a meeting,” he suggested. “Could be that Red and Wolf Boy have an idea of how to find the place, and with more of us looking the quicker we’ll find him.”

 

“Shall we meet back here this afternoon?” Giles suggested. “You both look like you could use some sleep.”

 

Buffy nodded wearily. “We need it, and so do Tara and Mairead. Spike’s right, but if Tara’s going to be with Mom today, maybe we should let her rest.”

 

Spike nodded. “Good idea. Anya might have an idea how to find Drac, too, and if Harris is with the rest of us, that bastard can’t get to him.”

 

Giles stood. “Agreed. I’ll call the others, and I will call you this afternoon to wake you.”

 

“Appreciate it, Watcher,” Spike replied. He rose with Buffy and followed her out of the apartment, shaking his head in bemusement as they headed for his place.

 

“What?”

 

“Him.”

 

“What about Giles?” Buffy asked, puzzled.

 

“He’s being awfully nice. It just hits me sometimes.”

 

“Oh. I guess so.” She tucked her hand through the crook of his arm. “You haven’t pissed him off nearly as bad this time around.”

 

Spike snorted, but he didn’t argue. “Think we’ll actually sleep?”

 

“We’d better,” Buffy said through a yawn. “Otherwise, I might fall asleep while I’m fighting Dracula, and wouldn’t that be great?”

 

“I’d be there,” Spike pointed out.

 

Buffy smiled. “I know, but I’d kind of like to be the one to stake him.”

 

“Then you will be,” Spike promised.

 

When they reached his apartment, Spike wasn’t too surprised when Buffy went straight to sleep, nor did he mind all that much. She needed her rest, and he would rather her be fresh and avoid injury, than keep her up.

 

~~~~~

 

Anya knew something was up. Every time she mentioned their plans for the evening—which she was hoping did _not_ include tracking down Dracula, or another Scooby meeting—Xander looked bored. While he sometimes was irritated with her, he was never bored, not with orgasms.

 

Her concern warred with irritation as she watched him. He wasn’t even trying to get out of the meeting. “Xander,” she hissed in his ear. “Aren’t we supposed to be leaving soon?”

 

“Huh?” Xander glanced over at her. “Why?”

 

Her eyes narrowed. “Because we had a date tonight.”

 

Xander smiled weakly. “Oh, right.”

 

“That’s it,” she muttered. Anya rose and interrupted Buffy and Spike’s conversation with Giles. “Buffy, can I talk to you? Privately?”

 

Buffy opened her mouth, then shut it again just as quickly, apparently sensing something in her voice. “Yeah, okay.” She glanced at Spike and Giles. “Be right back.”

 

She followed Anya into the bathroom, which was the only private room in the apartment. “What’s up, Anya?”

 

“Something’s wrong with Xander,” she said without preamble.

 

Buffy frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“We were supposed to have orgasms tonight, and he’s acting like he doesn’t want them. That isn’t like Xander.”

 

Oddly enough, Buffy didn’t look disgusted or impatient at her words, the way the others always did when Anya mentioned sex. “Crap. That bastard got to him.”

 

“Who?” Anya asked. “What’s wrong with Xander? I don’t want anything to be wrong with him.”

 

“Neither do I,” Buffy assured her. “We’ll get to the bottom of things, Anya, I promise.”

 

Anya followed the Slayer out of the bathroom. Willow and Oz had shown up while they were talking, and Giles was explaining the situation to them. “I’m not sure how we’re going to find Dracula, since Spike and Buffy were out all night looking.”

 

“Oh, you know Dracula,” Buffy said. “He’s always been more show than substance.”

 

“There’s plenty of substance to the dark master,” Xander said. Then, as every eye in the room turned to him, he quickly added, “—bater.”

 

Anya’s eyes widened as she realized what Buffy had meant when she said that Dracula had gotten to him. “When did you see Dracula, Xander?”

 

Xander gulped. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

 

“You know,” Spike said slowly, eyeing Xander with some interest. “Maybe you should stay off the search tonight, luv. Drac may come after you.”

 

“There’s no way, Spike,” Buffy replied heatedly. “I’m not going to sit back and wait for you to catch Dracula for me. That’s my job.”

 

“Think about it, Buffy,” he coaxed. “You weren’t with them the last time when they found his place. Could be your presence that’s messing things up.”

 

Anya thought she caught a touch of wry humor in Buffy’s expression, but she couldn’t be sure. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay. But I reserve every right to say ‘I told you so’ when you spend all night looking and still can’t find him.”

 

“I’ll let you.” He pulled her into an embrace, and Anya could see them whispering back and forth. Clearly, they knew something about Xander being under Dracula’s influence that she didn’t.

 

“Alright, let’s get going,” Spike announced. “Anya, you’re with us. Sorry to ruin your evening, but we need all the help we can get tonight.”

 

It definitely wasn’t how Anya had wanted to spend her evening, but since Xander wasn’t going to cooperate, she decided that there weren’t any better options. “Yeah, okay.” She glanced back at Xander, hoping that he’d say something, but he was too interested in one of Giles’ plants.

 

She sighed. Once again, the Hellmouth ruined her perfectly good plans.

 

~~~~~

 

Oz had missed this, which he found strange. Willow was his heart and music was his life, but Sunnydale was in his blood. Now that the wolf was under control, he felt as though he could use the beast within to his advantage, and that he was no longer a liability.

 

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Spike said, as soon as they had collected their weapons, ostensibly to hunt for Dracula. “Soon as the sun goes down, Harris is going to take Buffy to that git. We follow.”

 

Giles frowned. “Are you sure, Spike?”

 

Spike snorted. “Harris was one of Drac’s bug eaters last time. Buffy thought she’d managed to keep the bloody bastard off his tail, but…” He shrugged. “Think it’ll work out in our favor anyway.” He looked at the two men. “Dracula has brides that he keeps around him. You’ll want to stay away from them.”

 

“We’ll take care of that,” Willow said firmly, shooting a look at Oz.

 

Oz smiled faintly, recognizing that tone of voice. “We’ll steer clear.”

 

Spike nodded. “Then we wait.” He glanced at the sky. “I’d give it an hour.”

 

“Where are Tara and Mairead tonight?” Giles asked.

 

Spike shrugged. “They were both out all night last night, and Tara was supposed to work for Joyce today. Figured they could use the evening off.”

 

“Do you and Buffy ever get a night off?” Willow asked.

 

He shook his head. “Maybe one of these days.”

 

Oz noticed Giles’ wince, and he wondered if the Watcher felt guilty at times, since he was the one who had pulled Buffy into this business, at least in theory.

 

They waited mostly in silence, Giles and Spike deep in thought, and Anya with her arms wrapped around herself. Oz kept Willow’s hand in his, grateful as always for his second chance. He hadn’t been sure he’d get one.

 

“There,” Spike announced.

 

Sure enough, Buffy followed Xander out of Giles’ apartment and down the sidewalk. “How close do you want us?” Oz asked.

 

“We’ll stay back far enough so Harris doesn’t see us. Buffy knows we’re back here.”

 

They followed his lead unquestioningly, and Oz noticed the difference. Before he’d left town, he wasn’t sure that Giles or Willow would have accepted Spike’s orders unquestioningly, although they might have agreed eventually. Things had certainly changed.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy followed Xander, wondering if Dracula was controlling him from a distance, or if the vampire had planted the compulsion to bring her to him at the beginning. She wondered what Xander would have done if she’d refused to go along with the plan.

 

She also wondered what made Dracula think she’d go down easy. Looked like he was a cocky son of a bitch in this time period, too.

 

The castle seemed to rise up in front of them without warning, and she wondered if it had been hidden, and if the only reason that Giles and Riley had been able to find it the last time was that Dracula had been distracted with her.

 

“Here we are,” Xander announced, having been uncharacteristically quiet on the way. “The master is waiting for you.”

 

“I’ll bet he is,” Buffy muttered. She glanced behind her, unable to see Spike, but she could feel him close by. “Showtime.”

 

Xander stayed behind, but she wasn’t too worried about him. Spike wouldn’t hurt him—too badly, at least.

 

She could sense Dracula somewhere in the castle, and this time her mind was clear of fog as she walked the torch lit halls. The entrance to the great hall wasn’t that difficult to locate, and she strolled in. Dracula was seated at the head of the table, looking as though he’d been waiting. “There you are. I was beginning to think you were going to hide.”

 

“Your mother had been warned against me.” His voice was supremely cold.

 

“What? You think I don’t know your tricks?” Buffy asked lightly. “Spike warned me about you. Too bad that I have all the vampire I need.”

 

Dracula rose from his seat. “You do not know the darkness you harbor.”

 

Buffy couldn’t help it; she began to laugh. “Oh, you’re kidding, right?” She pulled a stake out of her waistband. “Trust me, I know darkness. I know it more intimately than you can imagine.”

 

“I could teach you so much,” Dracula coaxed. “I could show you so much.”

 

“Didn’t you hear her?” Spike’s voice called from behind her. “She doesn’t need your help.”

 

Dracula frowned, clearly unhappy about being interrupted. “You’re not welcome here, William.”

 

“Too bad for you that I don’t much care.”

 

“It’s okay, Spike,” Buffy assured him. “I’ve got it.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Right. I’ll just wait here then.” He leaned up against the doorjamb, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

 

She turned back to Dracula. “Like I said, I’ve got all the vampire I need.”

 

Dracula took another step towards her, his cold eyes fixed on hers. “You are mine, Slayer.”

 

Buffy knew he was trying to enthrall her as he’d done the first time around, but he was having trouble getting a grip on her mind. This time, Buffy knew her own power, knew her own darkness, and she had accepted both. He didn’t have a foothold, and she was growing tired of this game.

 

She sprang into action as he came within reach, her powerful kick catching him upside the head and sending him flying back. He was on his feet immediately, and Buffy knew that he was ready for a fight, no longer certain he would be able to control her. It was fight or flight for the both of them, and Buffy’s lips curved up in a smug smile.

 

She knew all his moves, and he knew none of hers.

 

Buffy toyed with Dracula, blocking his punches and kicks without trouble, while making sure to get in some good blows of her own. She could see that he was growing steadily frustrated as she chased him around the great hall, showing no sign of wearing out.

 

“You know, luv, we would still have the rest of the evening if you’d finish up.”

 

Spike’s words reminded Buffy that she had better things to do. “Sorry to keep you waiting, honey,” she said sweetly.

 

“Not a problem,” Spike said. “I’m enjoying the show.”

 

Buffy knew what that meant—she definitely needed to wrap things up. She hit Dracula with an elbow to the throat; although it didn’t have the same effect as on a human, it did make him gag. It also gave her the few seconds she needed to slam the stake home.

 

Spike came strolling up, his eyes on the pile of dust on the floor. “He does come back, you know.”

 

“Yeah.” She frowned. “Is there a way to make sure he doesn’t? I know he didn’t come back the last time, but I’m not willing to take the chance. I think I pissed him off pretty bad.”

 

He thought about it for a moment, then said, “Water. Wash him away.”

 

She grinned at the idea. “I like that plan.”

 

“Buffy!” Xander came running into the hall, Willow, Oz, Anya, and Giles at his heels. “Where is he? I’m gonna kill him!”

 

Buffy maintained a straight face with some difficulty. “He’s dust, but if you want to get a bucket of water, we’ll see if Spike’s theory works.”

 

“I can call water,” Willow offered.

 

She nodded. “Do it, Will.”

 

Buffy stepped back and watched as Willow’s brow furrowed, her face a mask of concentration. Before too long, a small, black cloud appeared over the pile of dust, and it began raining.

 

Spike let out a bark of laughter. “Now that’s something to see!”

 

“Good job, Willow,” Buffy said, smiling as the miniature downpour washed Dracula’s ashes away. She glanced up at Spike. “Well? Do you think that took care of it?”

 

As though in answer to her question, the castle around them vanished, and they were left standing in a dilapidated church—not the same one that Spike had used for his unholy ritual, but one much like it.

 

“I think that did it,” Giles said. “And as we took care of his brides, I do believe that you can say that you killed Dracula, Buffy.”

 

“I can, can’t I?” she asked. “I guess that’s one for the books.”

 

Spike sighed mournfully. “Yeah, but I didn’t get my eleven pounds from him.”

 

Giles snorted. “That’s not that much money.”

 

“Not that much money?” he demanded. “Do you know how much that would be with compound interest over the last century or so? I’d be set.”

 

“I thought you had plenty of money from the treasure,” Willow said, puzzled.

 

Spike lit a cigarette as he and Buffy led the way out of the building. “I do, but it’s the principle of the thing.”

 

“Hard to argue with principles,” Oz observed.

 

Buffy let the banter wash over her as she tucked her hand through Spike’s arm. One enemy down, although she knew there were plenty more where Dracula had come from.


	36. Hey, Little Sister

Joyce winced, putting a hand to her head. This was the second headache this week, and while she’d been certain that it was nothing, she was beginning to wonder. Particularly given what Buffy had told her about the possible future.

 

“Have you made an appointment to go to the doctor yet?” Spike asked.

 

She stiffened. “Spike? I didn’t hear you come in.”

 

“Have you?” he pressed, undeterred.

 

She sighed. “It could be nothing.”

 

“And we both know that it’s not.” He put his hands on her shoulders, steering her to a seat. “If you don’t call, I will.”

 

“I don’t want Buffy to know,” Joyce said quietly. “I don’t want her to worry.”

 

“Too late for that,” he replied sympathetically, taking up her station at the kitchen sink. “She’s been worried about you for months now, knowing what was likely to come.”

 

She watched him through half-closed eyes as he finished rinsing the supper dishes and put them in the dishwasher. His movements were quick and sure, as though he was perfectly at ease in her kitchen, cleaning up. “Where is Buffy?”

 

“At her Watcher’s. She told me to meet the two of you here this evening.” He smiled, and Joyce realized that he still wasn’t certain of his welcome. “Hope you don’t mind me being here.”

 

“You’re always welcome here, Spike,” Joyce said firmly.

 

The light in his eyes was warm. “Thanks. You still haven’t told me when you’re going to make that appointment.”

 

She sighed, knowing that he was right. This wasn’t something that could be put off, for Buffy’s sake if not for her own. “It’s Sunday. I’ll call tomorrow.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“I promise.” She gave him what she knew was a pleading look. “You won’t tell Buffy?”

 

He shook his head slowly, unhappy with her request. “No, but only because it’s not mine to tell. You’ve got to insist on the tests, though, Joyce. They’ll likely try to put you off; I know it took them awhile the last time to find it, but—”

 

“There isn’t the time?” she asked softly. The thought of her own death, pressing ever closer, frightened her. Joyce hadn’t wanted to believe that the headaches were harbingers of things to come; it was easier to ignore them, to pretend that Buffy had been wrong, or that it would be different this time.

 

She couldn’t die; she was too young, and Buffy still needed her.

 

Joyce wondered if the same attitude had led her to ignore the problem the first time, waiting until she had no choice but to address the issue.

 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Spike said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

 

Joyce had no choice but to believe him. “Thank you.”

 

“So, what movies are we watching to night?” Spike asked, deliberately changing the subject as he finished putting the dishes away.

 

“I’m afraid that all I got were chick flicks,” she apologized. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

 

Spike shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t get out, I think I’ll survive.”

 

“Your secret is safe with me,” Joyce assured him.

 

He gave her a quick grin, then froze, his head tilted to the side as though listening for something.

 

“Is everything okay?” Joyce asked.

 

“Yeah, it’s just—”

 

“Mom!” Dawn came bounding into the kitchen, skidding to a stop when she saw Spike standing there. “Oh, hey, Spike.”

 

A soft smile curved Spike’s lips. “Hello, Bit. Where’ve you been hiding?”

 

“I was upstairs reading,” she replied. “I would have come down if I’d known you were here.” She pouted prettily. “You haven’t been around much lately.”

 

“I’ll have to make it up to you somehow,” he responded.

 

Joyce shook her head. It was clear—to her, at least—that Dawn had a crush on the vampire. She remembered feeling the same way about one of her sister’s boyfriends; it was natural in a girl of Dawn’s age. “What did you need, sweetheart?”

 

“I wanted to know if we could go to the library tomorrow,” Dawn said. “And we have to get my school supplies.”

 

“Maybe Buffy could take you,” Joyce suggested. “I don’t think I’m going to have time before school starts.”

 

Dawn turned hopeful eyes to Spike. “Or Spike could take me.”

 

His lips twitched, and Joyce thanked her lucky stars that Spike was so gracious about Dawn’s presence, and her attempts to spend as much time with him as possible. “We’ll see, Bit.”

 

“Mom?” Buffy called.

 

“In the kitchen, sweetheart,” Joyce said, raising her voice. She was a little surprised when Buffy stopped in her tracks to stare at Dawn. “Is everything okay, Buffy?”

 

“Huh?” She shook herself. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

 

“Would you mind taking your sister school shopping tomorrow?” Joyce asked.

 

“With Spike,” Dawn inserted.

 

Buffy sighed and shook her head, muttering something that sounded like, “Some things never change.” Then, more loudly, she said, “Sure, Mom. It’s no problem.”

 

“Good. Why don’t you go pick out a movie to watch first?” Joyce suggested, watching as Dawn followed Buffy into the living room, to ensure that she got to put in her two cents. “Is everything okay?” she asked Spike, who had stayed behind.

 

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

 

“You looked like—” Joyce stopped, unsure of how to describe his expression. “You looked a little uncomfortable for a minute.”

 

He shook his head. “I’m fine. Just had a question answered, is all.”

 

“Was the answer what you expected?”

 

“Think it might turn out to be better.” With that, Spike followed the girls into the living room, and Joyce stood wearily, reminding herself to follow Spike’s advice and make an appointment to see the doctor.

 

She had so much to live for.

 

~~~~

 

Buffy waited until they had left the house and were on the way back to his apartment before she asked. “Did you feel it when it happened, too?”

 

Spike nodded. “I did. Felt bloody weird, too. Like someone was trying to rearrange my memories.”

 

She let out a sigh of relief. “I’m just glad we both still remember, and that Dawn is here.” Smiling wryly, Buffy added, “I really didn’t think I’d miss her this much.”

 

“I knew you would.”

 

She gave him a sly look. “I see she still has a crush on you.”

 

“Still?” Spike queried.

 

She snorted in reply. “You can’t tell me you didn’t know.”

 

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Think she was a bit fascinated with the vampire thing, like having her own private monster in the closet she didn’t have to fear.”

 

Shaking her head at his obtuseness, Buffy said, “She had a crush on you, Spike. And she knew that you had a crush on me, too. She was the one who told me how you felt.”

 

“Wasn’t a crush.” He could still remember how it felt, the desperate hope that she would one day return his feelings—or at the very least that she wouldn’t hate him. The love he’d felt for her then paled in comparison to how he now felt, but it had still been love. There was no question about that.

 

Hearing her call it a crush now reminded Spike of the months she’d spent denying his love.

 

“No, I guess it wasn’t.” Buffy’s hand slipped into his, and they walked along in silence for a while. “I love you.”

 

“I know you do, pet.”

 

“Glory is going to show up soon.”

 

“I know it.”

 

“What about Harmony?”

 

“What about her?”

 

“Do you think she’ll try to kidnap Dawn again?”

 

Spike snorted. “She could try.” He frowned, trying to remember how things had happened the last time. He hadn’t seen Harmony until after she had tried to kidnap Dawn, when she’d insisted that Buffy was after her skin. “She’ll probably try.”

 

“Do you want to go hunting?” Buffy asked suddenly. “I know it’s late, but I need—”

 

Spike knew exactly what she needed. He understood the desire to _do_ something, especially when there was so little within their ability to control. “Yeah, let’s go.”

 

This time, at least, they had one another. That was something.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn knew something was wrong. Buffy was being entirely too nice to her; she hadn’t even minded taking her shopping for school things. “Is somebody dying?” Dawn demanded the next day when Buffy showed up at the house unexpectedly and suggested that they get lunch.

 

Buffy had explained that Spike was busy with work, and her classes hadn’t started yet, but Dawn didn’t trust this new friendliness on her sister’s part. Buffy usually treated her like a nuisance, but Dawn still tried to spend as much time with her as possible, even though she knew Buffy thought of her as a pest. It was just part of being sisters.

 

This was new.

 

“What?” Buffy demanded, her expression telling Dawn that she might be closer to the mark than previously anticipated.

 

“Oh, no. Somebody really is dying. Who is it?” Dawn demanded. “You have to tell me, Buffy. I’m not a kid anymore. You can tell me these things.”

 

“No one’s dying,” Buffy snapped. “And you are too a kid.” For a moment, she sounded like her old self. “What makes you think that?”

 

“You’re being really nice,” Dawn pointed out. “And you and Spike took me shopping. You never let me hang out with you guys.”

 

Dawn didn’t understand why Buffy was suddenly blinking back tears. It wasn’t like she’d said anything to hurt Buffy’s feelings.

 

“There’s a lot going on right now,” Buffy replied vaguely. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

 

Now Dawn knew that _something_ was wrong. Buffy never, ever wanted to spend time with her, although the nonspecific answer sounded a lot like Slayer stuff. “Are _you_ dying?”

 

Buffy sighed. “No one’s dying, Dawnie. Can we drop it now? Please?”  


“You’ve been acting different,” Dawn said stubbornly. “I want to know why.”

 

Buffy rubbed her eyes wearily. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

 

That _really_ sounded like the old Buffy. “I want to know now.”

 

“Well, tough. We don’t always get what we want,” Buffy shot back.

 

Dawn heard the sound of a throat being cleared behind them. “Buffy?”

 

She turned to see a blond man who looked to be a few years older than Buffy standing behind them. He looked a little wary, as though he wasn’t sure what he was interrupting, or even if he should be interrupting.

 

“Hey, Graham,” Buffy said. “We haven’t seen you for a while.”

 

“I’ve been getting things settled,” Graham replied. “I wanted to talk to you.” He glanced at Dawn. “About that thing.”

 

Dawn saw the look Buffy gave her—the one that said, “Not in front of my kid sister.” What she said out loud was, “Sure. Tonight? Say around nine?”

 

“Where?”

 

“The Espresso Pump?”

 

“Sounds good.” The man gave her another curious look, and Buffy seemed to recall that introductions were in order.

 

“Graham, this is my younger sister, Dawn. Dawn, this is Graham.”

 

“Hey,” Dawn said, trying to sound cool, and older than she was.

 

He nodded. “It’s nice to meet you. See you tonight, Buffy.”

 

“Who was that?” Dawn asked once he was gone.

 

“One of the Initiative soldiers,” Buffy replied absently, her mind clearly on something else.

 

Dawn frowned. “One of the good ones?”

 

“Yeah.” Buffy shook herself slightly. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

 

Dawn followed, still wondering what was going on with her sister. It looked like she’d have to poke around to find out.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike stepped inside the magic shop, calling out, “Hello?” Receiving no answer, he frowned, wondering where the proprietor was, since the shop was unlocked.

 

“Hello? Anyone here?” He stepped further inside, and the smell of death hit his nostrils. “Bloody hell,” he muttered, quickly going to the still body. “It would have to be you, wouldn’t it, Harmony?”

 

Spike pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed 911. “Yeah, I’ve got an emergency at the magic shop on Main Street,” he said. “The owner’s been killed.” He went outside to wait for the paramedics, trying to remember what had happened the last time. Harmony had told him that she had a plan, and he’d laughed at her; he could recall that much.

 

Even now, the idea that she could actually present a threat was laughable; Dawn could probably take her.

 

Well, Dawn could take _Harmony_ ; her minions were something else altogether.

 

The ambulance rolled up, and the paramedics climbed out. “He’s inside,” Spike said. “Didn’t have a pulse when I found him.”

 

They nodded and took their kit inside the store just as the police began arriving. Spike sighed and steeled himself to deal with the cops. Not that it wasn’t clear what had happened; even the most clueless of Sunnydale’s finest had to be aware that exsanguinated bodies occasionally turned up.

 

The police questioned him almost half-heartedly, as soon as they found out the body had been drained of all blood. “Did you touch anything?” the youngest police officer asked, sounding as though he was ready to slap the cuffs on him if he had.

 

The older woman put a hand on her partner’s arm. “We just need to know if the scene was the same as when you entered it, Mr. Aldridge.”

 

“The only thing I touched was the outside door handle, and his neck to check for a pulse,” Spike assured them. “Otherwise, it’s exactly the same as when I entered.”

 

“Thanks for your help,” the woman said. “We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.”

 

Spike doubted that there would be more questions. It was more likely to go down in the books as an unsolved murder, even though he could have told them who’d done it.

 

On the other hand, explaining that he’d once been intimate with the vampire who had drained the shopkeeper, and that he knew it was her because he’d come from the future—probably not the best idea.

 

“Mr. Aldridge?”

 

Spike turned to see Buffy and Dawn standing behind him. “Where did you two come from?” he asked, pausing to give the Slayer a quick kiss.

 

“Lunch,” Buffy replied. “I thought it might be nice, since school starts soon for both of us.”

 

Spike smiled at Dawn. “And how was lunch, Bit?”

 

She shrugged. “Good.” Dawn craned her neck to get a glimpse of the scene behind him. “What’s going on?”

 

“There was some trouble,” Spike said vaguely. “Let’s get out of their way.”

 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Buffy said, sounding amused. “Why Mr. Aldridge?”

 

“Because I’m not using my real name,” Spike said. “And no, you may not ask what it was. To be honest, if we ever tie the knot, I’d just as soon take your name as keep mine.”

 

The silence that immediately fell told Spike he’d said something wrong. “What?” he snapped irritably.

 

“You’re thinking marriage?” Buffy managed to get out.

 

Spike swallowed, realizing that there had probably been a better way to bring up the idea. Not that he was ready to produce a ring, but it had crossed his mind. “Yeah, well… Can we talk about this later?”

 

Buffy must have caught Dawn’s avid expression, because she pulled herself up short. “Yeah, sure. By the way, we’re meeting with Graham tonight.” Her look was significant. “We can have _our_ talk after that.”

 

Spike hid a wince, wondering what exactly it was about marriage that Buffy would find so objectionable. He’d thought that was what women wanted—eventually, anyway. Unless, of course, her objection was to _him_ and not to the institution.

 

And if that was the case, he’d much rather not know.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles felt as though he was forgetting something important. They had taken care of Dracula without too many problems; no one had been injured, although Xander’s pride had been a little bruised. Buffy had given him a rather detailed outline of the next few months, and now he couldn’t remember where he’d put his notes.

 

He picked up a pile of books on his desk to reveal a sheaf of papers underneath, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d asked Buffy and Spike to go over the events of the next few months so many times that their patience was likely running out. It was unlikely that they’d willingly tell the story even one more time.

 

Shuffling the papers, Giles finally located the notes he’d made on Dracula, and he scanned the page for the next event, frowning as he saw what he’d written down. “Buffy can only estimate when Dawn appears. Without any way of knowing which memories were altered, her best guess is that she showed up shortly before Glory, or the monk. Dawn’s identity must remain a secret, and she must not be told the truth, not right away. Once a decision has been made on how to deal with the threat that Glory presents, then she can be told.”

 

Giles blinked. That made no sense. “Buffy’s sister?” he murmured. “What—”

 

Quickly picking up the phone, he dialed Spike’s number, knowing that the vampire was likely to be with Buffy, and if he wasn’t, he would likely have the answers anyway. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah, Rupert. What can I do for you?”

 

Spike sounded distracted, and Giles hesitated for a moment before asking, “I need to speak with you or Buffy. It’s about some of the notes I took. I don’t quite understand.”

 

There was a pause, and Giles could hear Spike’s voice, then the voice of another. “Can it wait until tomorrow?” Spike asked, abruptly coming back on the line. “I’ve got a couple of fires to put out here.”

 

“Yes, if you’ll answer one question,” Giles insisted.

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“I have written down here that Dawn will appear, and that she is the Key. Is that—”

 

“That’s exactly what happened, and that’s all I can say right now. Buffy and I will be over tomorrow afternoon.” Spike waited a beat, then said, “I’d appreciate it if you’d check up on Joyce for me.”

 

The line went dead, and Giles stared at the phone for a moment, trying to decipher that last, cryptic comment. His eyes narrowing, he realized what Spike’s request likely meant, and he dialed the number for the gallery.

 

“Sunnydale Galleria,” her voice said pleasantly. “Joyce Summers speaking.”

 

“Joyce, it’s Rupert,” he said. “I was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight.”

 

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I’d love to, but Dawn—” She paused, and he could hear someone else speaking in the background. “Tara just said that they could watch her.”

 

He smiled. “Good. Shall I pick you up at eight?”

 

“That would be lovely,” she replied warmly.

 

Giles ended the call with only a small pang of guilt, as he did have ulterior motives for the invitation that she didn’t know about. In a way, he supposed, he was ambushing her, but it was only because he cared, and he didn’t want anything to happen to her.

 

With any luck, she’d see it that way, too.


	37. Anticipation

Graham took a deep breath, trying to process what he’d just been told. He didn’t believe it; he _couldn’t_ believe it. Time travel was impossible.

 

And yet—he didn’t have a better explanation for how they knew as much as they did.

 

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Buffy said. “I wish there was something we could do to prove it, but we didn’t know each other all that well.”

 

Graham shook his head. “But you did know me?”

 

“Through Riley,” Buffy explained. “We were pretty close the last time around.”

 

He could understand that, at least. Buffy was exactly the type of girl that Riley would have fallen for. “I see.”

 

“You don’t have to believe us, mate,” Spike said, his tone sympathetic. “You could just accept that we know more than most and leave it at that.”

 

It was tempting to “leave it at that,” as Spike suggested, but that didn’t explain how they knew as much as they did. On the other hand, accepting the story they’d just told him stretched his credulity to the breaking point. “Let’s say that I do believe you,” he said. “Why are you telling me this?”

 

“Because we know that in a few months there’s going to be a Hellgod and a bunch of idiots with swords running around,” Buffy replied. “We both think that you might be able to give us a hand, and that you should be warned at the very least.”

 

Graham frowned. “A Hellgod?” He could understand idiots with swords, but not that.

 

“A really strong demon who wants to destroy the world.” Buffy smiled apologetically. “That’s about the best I can do.”

 

“Again, assuming I believe you, what happened last time?” Graham asked, wondering what their explanation would be.

 

They looked at each other, then Spike shrugged. “Buffy died. We’d like to keep that from happening this time.”

 

It was so preposterous, Graham couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, but he immediately sobered when he saw the look on Buffy’s face. “You’re serious.”

 

Buffy tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t really expect you to believe all of this.”

 

That was just it; Graham _did_ believe them. Almost. It was the most plausible explanation for how they had known what they had about Adam, and about him. It explained how Spike had known where to find Adam, and any number of other strange little bits of information.

 

Graham had seen enough since coming to Sunnydale to suspect that time travel and raising someone from the dead weren’t entirely impossible. “It’s not that I don’t believe you,” he hedged.

 

Spike chuckled. “It’s just that you don’t believe us. It’s all right. We can get on just fine without you completely buying what we’re saying.”

 

“Let’s just say that I’m operating under the assumption you’re telling the truth, and ignoring the fact that I’d have to be crazy to believe you.”  Graham took a deep breath. “The men who stayed here are loyal to me, and if you need our help, we’ll do whatever we can.”

 

Buffy’s face broke out into a relieved grin. “Thanks, Graham. We definitely appreciate it.”

 

“Let us know, and we’ll do the same if we can, Captain,” Spike added.

 

Graham knew that their alliance was unorthodox at best, but some of the things he’d seen in Sunnydale weren’t in any book he’d ever read. In the end, it was about the mission, and Graham would do whatever it took.

 

Even if it meant working with a vampire and a girl who wasn’t quite human.

 

~~~~~

 

When Giles opened the door for her, Joyce smiled. It had been a long time since she’d been on a date with such a gentleman. “Thank you.”

 

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied, sliding into the driver’s seat. “I hope you don’t mind, but I made reservations for us at the new restaurant in town.”

 

“That sounds great,” Joyce said. “I’ve been wanting to try it.”

 

He smiled. “Let’s hope that it’s as good as advertised.”

 

“If it’s not, I won’t blame you,” she teased.

 

They made light conversation as Joyce tried to decide whether or not to talk to him about her doctor’s appointment earlier that afternoon. After she’d called, he had wanted to see her immediately. Although he had hesitated to order tests, when Joyce had lied and said that her father had died from a brain tumor—it had been a heart attack—he’d quickly changed his tune.

 

She suspected that his decision had as much to do with a desire to reassure her as with a need to rule out a possibility like that early on.

 

“I’m going in for tests.”

 

A deep silence fell. “I see. When?”

 

“Next week.” Joyce sighed. “I had to talk fast to get the doctor to agree. He wanted to wait at first, but when I told him that my father had died from a brain tumor, he agreed to push the tests through the insurance.”

 

Giles took a deep breath. “There’s that, at least. I’m glad you’re getting it taken care of now.”

 

“I’m sorry to spoil the evening.” Joyce put her hand over his on the gearshift. “I needed to tell someone, and I didn’t want to worry Buffy right now.”

 

He frowned. “Is there something going on with Buffy?”

 

“No more than the usual,” she assured him. “I know that she’s worried about me, and I don’t want to add to it.”

 

“I don’t think you can keep this from her forever,” Giles said gently.

 

Joyce shook her head. “Not forever, just long enough to get some answers.”

 

“You don’t think she’ll find out?”

 

“I know she will, but I’d like to wait until I have some answers for her.” Joyce wanted to explore more treatment options this time, and she wanted to get a second opinion. If the worst was to happen, she wanted to be able to say that she’d done everything in her power to be there for her children.

 

Giles’ hand found hers. “Would you like me to go with you?”

 

“Yes.” She felt a little guilty for leaning on him so heavily, but his offer had lifted a great burden from her shoulders. There were times she missed Hank with an intensity that startled her, given that her love for him had faded a long time before.

 

“All you had to do was ask,” he said softly.

 

Joyce glanced over and read the truth in his eyes. She wondered what might have happened if Ethan had never cast his spell over the band candy, if their relationship might have progressed naturally, or if nothing at all would have occurred.

 

It didn’t matter now, of course. They were moving towards something important, something real, and that’s all she could ask for.

 

~~~~~

 

“Thank you so much, Tara,” Buffy said in a low voice. “I wouldn’t ask this, but Mom’s out with Giles, and—”

 

“Say no more,” Tara assured her. “We don’t mind having Dawn here, and we’ll make sure she gets her homework done.”

 

She watched as Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. It’s just—Spike and I need to patrol, and we really need to talk.”

 

Tara frowned. Buffy sounded as though she was a little freaked out. “Did something happen?”

 

Buffy lowered her voice even further. “Spike made a comment about marriage today.”

 

Tara raised her eyebrows. “Is that a problem?”

 

“No, it was just a surprise. The way he said it—it was so matter-of-fact.”

 

“And you don’t know what to do about it?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Not really. Although, I have to admit that the actual idea doesn’t freak me out nearly as much as I thought it would.”

 

Tara offered a sympathetic smile. “But telling Spike that freaks you out.”

 

She laughed ruefully. “Pretty much. Anyway, Mom should be by around ten to pick Dawn up.”

 

“Be careful tonight,” Tara called as she left, then turned to go back into the house. They had been in the house together for a week now, and it was working out better than she could have hoped. The small, two bedroom house with a finished basement gave all of them enough space, and yet allowed a closeness that was homey.

 

She didn’t know that it would have been as comfortable if Mairead hadn’t been there with her, but it was perfect as it was.

 

“What do you want to do tonight, Dawn?” Tara asked. “I was thinking about making cookies, if you’re interested.”

 

The girl shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Where’s Willow?”

 

“She had to study, and Oz had practice. They should be back soon.” Tara began getting out the ingredients for her chocolate chip cookies. Mairead was fond of them, and she thought it would give Dawn something to do.

 

“Do you know what’s going on with Buffy?” Dawn asked.

 

Tara frowned. “What are you talking about?”

 

“She’s being weird.” Dawn rested her chin in her hands, elbows propped on the counter. “She keeps telling me she wants to spend time with me, and she’s being _nice_.”

 

Tara bit back a smile. “Is that so terrible?”

 

“It’s weird!” Dawn’s eyes were wide and trusting. “Is somebody dying, Tara? Because that’s the only reason I can think of that she’d be acting like this.”

 

“No one’s dying, sweetie,” Tara promised her. “I know that for a fact.”

 

She wasn’t really lying. As far as she knew, no one was dying, at least not now. Living on the Hellmouth, though, she had no idea if the same would be true tomorrow.

 

“Hello, Dawn,” Mairead said as she entered the kitchen. “How are your sister and Spike?”

 

“Buffy’s totally freaked,” Dawn said with a grin. “Spike made a comment about marrying her today, and she wigged.”

 

Mairead shared a look with Tara. “Every woman ‘wigs’ when marriage is mentioned for the first time,” she replied. “Even if it’s only on the inside.”

 

“Are you guys going to get married?” Dawn asked innocently.

 

Tara blushed. “I think it’s a little early to say.”

 

The front door opened, and Oz’s voice called out, “Is Willow home yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Mairead replied.

 

He wandered into the kitchen, giving Dawn a brief smile. “How did the spell casting go tonight?”

 

“Good,” Tara said. “I think we’ve got our protections up, and as strong as they’re going to be.”

 

There was a yelp from outside, then Willow’s voice could be heard, “Get back!”

 

“Stay here,” Tara ordered Dawn, as she followed Oz and Mairead to the front door.

 

Willow was backing inside the house, stepping across the threshold just as Harmony tried to run inside. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Harmony, but you should probably leave town,” Willow said.

 

“I want the Slayer,” Harmony replied. “No one’s home except for you.”

 

“Lucky us,” Oz murmured quietly, and Tara had to fight back a giggle.

 

Willow glared at her. “Buffy’s not going to want to talk to you. She’s got better things to do.”

 

Harmony tossed her hair back. “Well, I’m calling her out. I’m her nemesis.”

 

Willow started laughing. “Harmony, you’re going to get yourself killed, but if that’s what you want—” She shrugged. “Goodbye.”

 

When Willow slammed the door shut, she shuddered. “Did you guys see the big vampire?” she whispered. “He’s huge! I didn’t even have a pencil to levitate.”

 

“Aren’t you going to kill them?” Dawn asked. “You guys are, like, powerful witches, right?” She glanced at Oz. “And a werewolf.”

 

“Thanks,” Oz said, looking rather amused.

 

Willow shook her head. “I think we should let Buffy and Spike handle Harmony and her ‘minions.’”

 

“Buffy could probably use a laugh,” Oz agreed.

 

Willow snickered. “Yeah. Harmony having minions—I never thought I’d see the day.”

 

“Are you certain they’re not dangerous?” Mairead asked. “If one underestimates a problem, it often grows.”

 

Tara hesitated, then said, “We don’t know if Harmony would be useful in the future. Buffy would know better.”

 

“Why would Buffy know?” Dawn demanded.

 

They all looked at one another, and Tara knew the others were as much at a loss for words as she was. “I’m going to call Xander and Anya,” Willow announced. “I’ll bet they’d appreciate coming over. It’ll be like a party.”

 

“But why would Buffy know?” Dawn asked again, beginning to sound angry and upset. “Why won’t anybody tell me anything? I’m not a kid!”

 

“No, you’re not, dear one,” Mairead said, putting an arm around Dawn’s shoulders and drawing her close. “But we are not the ones to tell another’s story.”

 

“Buffy never tells me anything,” Dawn complained as Tara followed them back into the kitchen.

 

“She wishes to protect you,” Mairead pointed out. “Would you not do the same if you were the older sister?”

 

Dawn sighed sullenly. “No. I’d tell her the truth.”

 

“Would you really?” Tara asked. “If Buffy asked you to keep a secret from your mom because she knew it would worry her, or scare her, would you?”

 

A pout formed. “Yes.”

 

Tara nodded. “Come on. I need your help measuring.”

 

She looked at Mairead; the other woman’s blue-green eyes clearly showed her concern. Tara knew the feeling. Although there was a certain amount of comfort in knowing what was coming next, she hoped they could change what had to change.

 

Otherwise, she wasn’t sure Buffy would survive it.

 

~~~~~

 

Patrol had been quiet. Buffy had no idea how to begin this conversation. What was she supposed to say? “So, Spike, were you serious, or were you joking about marriage?” Buffy honestly wasn’t sure what she wanted his answer to be.

 

“We going back to my place, or do you want me to walk you home?” he finally asked, breaking the silence that hung between them.

 

She glanced over at him, surprised at his tone. Spike sounded like he was bracing himself for the worst, and she winced. They clearly still had a lot of work to do on their communication skills. “Your place, if that’s okay.”

 

“Up to you.”

 

“There are two of us here.”

 

“You were the one who got shirty earlier.”

 

“I was _not_ being ‘shirty,’” Buffy shot back. “I was just surprised. You haven’t mentioned marriage since Willow’s first will be done spell.”

 

He sighed. “Just forget I said it, okay?”

 

Buffy frowned. “Why should I? Were you not serious?”

 

“It’s not about me being serious. I know you’d never—”

 

She grabbed his arm and turned him around to face her. Buffy loved him, but he could be the most infuriating of men. “How do you know?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“How do you know I wouldn’t marry you?” she demanded. “You haven’t even asked. You just made an off-the-cuff remark, and I didn’t know whether or not you were serious.”

 

The muscle in his jaw ticked, and Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. Would you marry me?”

 

It wasn’t the most romantic of proposals, and certainly not what Buffy had expected out of him, but at the moment she didn’t particularly care. She was caught up in the heat of the moment, and her answer came as a surprise to both of them.

 

“Yes.”

 

Spike’s eyes widened. “You would?”

 

“Are you going to take it back?” Buffy challenged him.

 

“No!” He sounded a little panicked, and she felt a bolt of satisfaction. It was about time he started getting how serious this was. “I don’t have a ring.”

 

“We can work on that,” she replied with a smile.

 

A smile played around his lips. “I guess we can. When?”

 

“How about after we take care of Glory?” Buffy suggested. “That way we’ll have time to plan it.”

 

Spike chuckled. “Guess we could do an outdoor wedding now.”

 

She took his arm. “We could. Or we could do it at night, too. Whichever.”

 

“Think this requires a celebration,” Spike said. “My place?”

 

“Oh, yeah.”

 

Their good humor lasted until they arrived at Spike’s apartment to discover two messages on his answering machine.

 

“Hey, guys, it’s Willow. Harmony came by our place tonight. She said she wanted to call the Slayer out. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but one of the vampires with her was huge. We think they’re gone, but we’re keeping a look out for your mom and Giles.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I was kind of hoping Harmony wouldn’t show up this time.”

 

“You and me both,” Spike muttered. “We’ll have to smoke them out. I don’t want her getting her hands on Dawn this time.”

 

“I remember where she was hidden,” she replied. “We might be able to go tonight. It’s late, but—”

 

“Better now than later,” Spike agreed. He pushed play on the next message.

 

“Spike, it’s Clem. I heard some guys talking tonight, and the vampires in town know you’ve got the Gem. I don’t know how they found out, but they’re talking about coming after you and taking it. I thought you’d want to know.”

 

Spike was swearing before the message had stopped, and Buffy sank down on his couch. “This is _not_ good.”

 

“You’re telling me,” he stated. “Shit.”

 

Buffy looked up at him miserably. “We can’t risk another vampire getting his hands on it, Spike.”

 

“I know. Bloody hell, I know.” Spike sat down, putting his head in his hands. “Where I live isn’t that big of a secret, and since it’s my place, they won’t even need an invitation.”

 

She reached for his hand. “Maybe it would be better if you put it in a security deposit box, or left it with Mom or Giles. You could still wear it during the day, when you really needed to. It would be safer.”

 

Spike stared at the ring adorning his hand. “I’ve been wearing it so long, feels like a part of me, you know?”

 

“I know.” She waited for his response, knowing that he would do the right thing, whatever that happened to be. The Gem of Amara kept Spike safe, but they had always known that there was a possibility that it could bring more trouble than it was worth.

 

He clenched his fist, then took a deep, unneeded breath. “I’ll ask the Watcher if he’s got a safe. Don’t think anyone would expect him to have it. Don’t think I want to keep it in a vault at the bank. Too hard to get to that way.”

 

“Whatever you want to do.”

 

Spike met her eyes, then slowly pulled the ring off his finger. “Probably better not risk it tonight. I’m not worried about Harmony, but Clem wouldn’t have called if the problem wasn’t pressing.”

 

Buffy nodded. “Where are you going to put it?”

 

“Should be safe enough here for now. There aren’t many who know where I live, an’ those who do are fairly trustworthy.”

 

She put her hand on his arm. “I know this isn’t what you want, Spike, but I’m glad you’re going to keep it safe. I don’t want to lose you.”

 

Spike nodded. “Yeah. Figure if you could take it from me, and Angel could take it from the wanker I hired, it’s probably better not to risk it.” He rose. “I’ll just tuck this away, and then we can leave.”

 

“Where are you going to put it?” Buffy called.

 

“Got a box for it right now,” he responded. “I’ll take it to the Watcher tomorrow. Won’t have to worry about vampires being out during the day.”

 

She leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. This turn of events was unexpected, although it probably shouldn’t have been. Spike had been using the Gem of Amara for almost a year now, and it was likely that the only reason word hadn’t gotten out was because he hadn’t had much contact with the demon world. That had all changed over the summer with all the errands he’d been running.

 

“I’d probably better take the ring and clean out as much of that cave as possible,” Spike said when he came back into the living room. “Might need the money soon.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Contingencies,” he replied. “Dunno if it’s a good idea for your mum and sister to stay in town. Might be better to ship them off some place, and that takes money.”

 

“Money we don’t have,” Buffy agreed. “Yeah, but let me know, okay? I want to see this cave, and it’s probably better if you have company.”

 

Spike snorted. “I don’t think so. What if one of the tunnels collapses? The ring might save me, but it won’t save you.”

 

“Spike—”

 

His expression was grim. “You’re not risking it for the same reason I’m giving up wearing the ring full time.”

 

Buffy sighed, knowing when she was beat. “Fine. Let’s get Harmony and her pack of losers taken care of, and then we can get back to celebrating. We can worry about the rest of it tomorrow.”


	38. Uncertainty

“So, Harmony, I heard you wanted to see me.”

 

Spike watched Buffy from the shadows; the Slayer was very good at what she did, and it was always a pleasure to see her work. Harmony stopped in mid-stream, looking rather alarmed at Buffy’s presence. She’d been giving a pep talk to the other vampires—a rather sorry lot, in Spike’s opinion.

 

Except for the big one. His sheer size meant that he could be quite a threat.

 

“So nice of you to join us, Slayer,” Harmony said, her bravado betrayed by a quiver in her voice.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Please, Harmony. You suck at being bad, just like you sucked at everything back in high school. I just wanted to get this over with.” She looked over her shoulder. “Spike? Are you going to give me a hand, or do you want to watch?”

 

He joined her, giving her a mock leer. “You know I always like to watch.”

 

The corners of her lips twitched. “And yet you’re such an enthusiastic participant.”

 

Harmony was staring at both of them in wide-eyed shock. “You’re dating the Slayer?”

 

Spike shrugged. “Actually, we’re engaged.”

 

“Congratulations,” Harmony replied automatically. Forgetting that she was supposed to be talking to an enemy, she asked, “Have you set a date yet?”

 

The big vampire growled. “I thought you were going to kill the Slayer.”

 

“I am!” Harmony snapped, her face shifting. “You’re going down, Buffy.”

 

Buffy sniffed. “Now I’m scared.” With that parting shot, she sprang into action, executing a roundhouse kick that put Harmony out of commission.

 

Spike went for the smallest one first, wanting to get him out of the way. He staked him cleanly, then ducked a clumsy punch from a second vampire. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike could see the big one with his arms outspread, ready to catch Buffy in a rib-crushing hold. “Buffy!”

 

She hit the ground, then kicked out, catching the big vampire’s knee with the heel of her boot. He howled in pain, and Spike concentrated on the two remaining minions. Neither were particularly good fighters, and he managed to grab one by the jacket, throwing him at the second, and bowling them both over.

 

With a manic grin, Spike staked the first, following through to pierce the heart of the second as the dust scattered.

 

He checked on Buffy, who had the big vampire in a retreat with a series of punches and kicks too fast for him to keep up with. Harmony was edging her way towards the entrance, clearly in an attempt to retreat.

 

Spike remembered that she’d come to him for shelter the last time, claiming that Buffy was out to kill her. He had had his doubts about that at the time, and now he knew that he’d been right. The Slayer hadn’t much cared about Harmony as long as she didn’t get in the way. Without knowing what she’d do this time, they couldn’t afford to let her get away this time, and Spike moved quickly to intercept her.

 

“Where are you going, Harm?” Spike asked. “Thought you wanted to kill the Slayer.”

 

“I do.” She looked over her shoulder nervously, just in time to see Buffy stake the big vampire with a wooden unicorn. “Now isn’t the right time.”

 

“Now is the perfect time,” Spike replied, turning her around and pushing her towards Buffy.

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. “What am I going to do with you, Harmony?”

 

“I always liked you, Buffy,” Harmony said, attempting to back away, and running into him.

 

Buffy sighed. “No, you didn’t, and I never really liked you, but I’ll give you a chance to leave town now. If you come back, I’ll kill you.”

 

Harmony tilted her chin defiantly. “You could try!”

 

Buffy stepped forward menacingly, stake raised, and Harmony let out an undignified squeak. “Okay, bye!”

 

Spike let her go this time, since that was apparently what Buffy wanted. Once he was certain she was out of earshot, he raised an eyebrow. “You let her go?”

 

Buffy shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Killing her would be too easy. It just feels…wrong.”

 

He put an arm around her shoulders. “A bit like staking me with the chip in, huh?”

 

“Exactly, except I would never want Harmony around.”

 

“You didn’t want me around either.”

 

“At least you kept things interesting.”

 

“How come you never chased me off?” Spike asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

 

She grinned. “I have no idea, but I’m glad I didn’t.”

 

He felt much the same way.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander stepped inside the apartment, feeling as though his life was about to begin. He had no idea how he was supposed to dress to look for apartments, but he figured that if Spike could get one, he should have no problem.

 

“I, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to get cleaned up first,” he told the manager. “I came straight from work.”

 

He’d wanted to wait to be sure that his boss was going to ask him to stay on before starting to look around, but once he’d been given the word, he’d called immediately. Although there was a part of him that had wanted to ask the others to come along, he’d hesitated. Maybe this was something he should do by himself.

 

“That’s fine.” She smiled warmly at him. “I understand completely.”

 

He wandered around the bare interior, trying to picture himself—and Anya—living there. He had a feeling that his girlfriend would be spending a lot of time at his place once they didn’t have to worry about hearing his parents’ drunken fights anymore.

 

“You’ll need to fill out an application,” she advised. “We’ll run a credit check and talk to your references, and then let you know. We’ll also need, first, last, security, and a small cleaning deposit. The total is at the bottom of the application.”

 

Xander took the form from her and glanced at the figure. It was high, but not too bad now that he’d been given a raise, and a permanent position. He looked down at the toes of his work boots, wondering how he’d come to be here.

 

He was a full-fledged adult now, with a real job, and a real girlfriend, and now he was looking at renting a real apartment. How did that happen?

 

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” he said finally, looking up at her with a crooked grin. “When will you let me know?”

 

“It will be a couple of days, but no more than that. Once we run the check, you can sign the lease.” Her tone changed slightly. “Are you going to be living here alone?”

 

“Huh?” Xander had been looking over the rest of the application, and hadn’t been paying much attention. “Oh, yeah. That’s the plan.”

 

She nodded, as though satisfied with herself. “Great. Well, I’ll let you know as soon as we’ve finalized everything.”

 

“Thanks,” Xander said sincerely, exiting the apartment and watching as she locked up after them. “Hopefully, I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

 

It was that much harder to go home after that, to his parents’ basement that smelled of urine with the occasional rain of plaster dust from disintegrating tiles. The phone rang as soon as he entered, and Xander picked it up. “Hello?”

 

“Hey, Xander,” Buffy said. “Are you available for a meeting tonight? We’re ordering pizza if you’re hungry.”

 

“Sure,” he replied. “Where?”

 

“We’re going to do it at Giles’ place. We’ve already called for dinner, but we’ll save you a few slices if the pizza gets here before you do.” Her voice took on a teasing tone. “Unless you’d prefer bugs.”

 

“I thought we weren’t going to mention that,” Xander replied.

 

She giggled. “I never agreed to that.”

 

He said goodbye, shaking his head. Although he might have liked to be annoyed at her reference to him succumbing to Dracula’s thrall, Xander couldn’t say that he didn’t deserve it. He’d been warned several times, and he’d still been caught.

 

After a moment’s thought, Xander dialed Anya’s number, not knowing whether Buffy had called his girlfriend to let her know about the meeting as well.

 

“We have to see them tonight?” Anya asked. “I thought we were going to look for a new place for you to live.”

 

“I already looked, An,” Xander replied. “They’re checking my credit, and she’s going to let me know in a couple of days.”

 

“You went without me?” Her voice took on a dangerous lilt.

 

He swallowed. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

 

“So, you don’t care about my opinion?” she asked.

 

Xander frowned. “Of course I do, but I just found out today that I’m keeping my job, and I went straight over there. It’s the place you said you liked.”

 

“But you didn’t even tell me.”

 

He realized that she wasn’t going to get past that point any time soon. “Can we talk about this later?” he asked plaintively. “I need to get cleaned up to meet the others.”

 

“Fine. I’m not going to be there.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I have to wash my hair.”

 

When he heard the dial tone, Xander knew he was in serious trouble.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles looked up at Spike with a smile of welcome as Spike entered his apartment after a brief knock. “You’re early.”

 

“I needed to talk to you about a couple of things.” Spike shut the door behind him and slumped down on the couch. “You know the Magic Box is available.”

 

“I was aware of that,” Giles replied. “I saw the police tape the other day when I went to get a few things. I’ve already made inquiries into leasing the space.”

 

Spike nodded, apparently satisfied. “Good. That’s one thing that we didn’t want to change. The place comes in handy.”

 

“And I _was_ getting bored,” he admitted. The summer had been longer than he’d like to admit. With Willow and Tara in England, and Spike and Buffy largely self-sufficient, he hadn’t had much to do. “Was there something else?”

 

“Heard from a friend that there are some vampires in town who’ve found out that I’ve got the ring, and they want it.”

 

Giles wished he could say that he was surprised, but he’d been expecting it. In truth, he was only surprised that it had taken this long. “What do you want to do?”

 

“I’m going to clear out the cave,” Spike replied. “Think the extra cash may come in handy this year. After that, I want you to hold it for safekeeping. No one would expect it, and I know you can handle it.”

 

Giles pulled off his glasses, polishing the lenses slowly. “I have a safe I could put it in. Will that do?”

 

“Yeah, that’ll work.” Spike stared down at his hand. “I have to tell you, I don’t want to give it up.”

 

“Because you’re invulnerable while wearing it?”

 

“Because I can be with Buffy with it.” Spike’s eyes were vulnerable. “I’m used to being with her any time of the day. Seems like it’s putting up a barrier between the two of us again.”

 

Giles felt strangely honored by Spike’s confidence, and he could understand why he was concerned. “You didn’t have the ring before,” he pointed out. “Buffy’s feelings for you started long before you came back in time.”

 

Spike didn’t appear convinced. “Maybe, but this is where things were good. How much of it was the Gem?”

 

“I honestly don’t believe that’s something you have to be concerned about,” Giles replied. “But you won’t know until you try it.”

 

“Yeah.” He was quiet for a moment. “Soon as I empty out the cavern, I’ll pass it over. Figure it’s best to make sure it’s where I can still get to it, as long as it’s safe.”

 

“A good thought,” Giles agreed. “What were you thinking you need the money for?”

 

“Dunno that it’s a good idea for Joyce to stay here with Dawn,” Spike said. “And she could need special treatment she can’t get here. Could solve all our problems to send them away while we take care of Glory.”

 

Giles sat back in his seat, surprised at the suggestion, but Spike had a very good point. Glory was going to become a problem shortly, and it might be better that she not even know that Buffy had a sister. “Would it be possible for Glory not to know about Buffy to begin with?”

 

Spike chuckled, although there was little humor in the sound. “Maybe, but Glory tends to go after what she wants with no thought for who she hurts in the process. That, and the fact that she’s going to be brain-sucking people right and left—Buffy won’t be able to let that go.”

 

“What do you want to do?” Giles asked.

 

Spike sighed. “I don’t know, Watcher. There’s a part of me that wants to whisk all of them away, somewhere safe until this is over. And then again, I’d like to prevent Glory from doing any harm at all.”

 

Giles frowned. “How?”

 

“By killing Ben,” Spike reminded him, then laughed. “Never mind. Forget I said anything about it.”

 

Giles was still puzzled. “Who’s Ben?”

 

~~~~~

 

Mairead wasn’t used to California weather yet. It still seemed odd to go outside without carrying an umbrella, whether or not it looked like rain. She was still adjusting to life outside of the coven; she’d been under Gertrude Harkness’ tutelage since the age of sixteen, and had lived with them since eighteen.

 

She often thought that the only thing keeping her from being terribly homesick was Tara’s presence. Mairead liked Willow, but she wasn’t the sort of person she’d normally have cultivated a relationship with. Oz, on the other hand, reminded her of a school chum she’d been close to.

 

Looking after the Hellmouth wasn’t quite a full time job, though, and she wanted something else to do with her time while Tara was in classes. The coven had begun arranging her work permit as soon as the decision had been made to send her, and she already had her green card. It was just a matter of finding suitable work.

 

Mairead frowned as she saw a large, scaly demon entering one of the stores along the main street, and she quickened her steps. She entered the shop to see Giles swinging a statue at the demon’s head.

 

The demon raised his staff to strike, and Mairead quickly drew in her power, casting a well-aimed spell in the demon’s direction.

 

Staggering back a few steps, the demon raised his staff and pointed it at her. “You are not the Slayer.”

 

“No, and you will not touch her,” Mairead replied. “Be gone.” When it looked as though he might stand his ground, she thrust him outside with as much force as she could muster. “Are you alright?” she asked Giles.

 

“Quite,” he replied, lowering the statute. “Thank you. That was impressive.”

 

Mairead shook her head. “The amount of power is unimportant compared to how one uses it.” She glanced around. “Are you taking over here?”

 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asked. “The overhead is low, and I believe that there’s a market for it. The rent is cheap, mostly because shop owners keep dying.”

 

She smiled. “It might be a good idea for you to have some protections. I could work on that for you, if you like. We’ve already done our house, and we’ve plans to take care of Buffy and Spike’s homes next.”

 

“That would be most appreciated,” Giles replied. “It might be nice to at least have some warning when a demon enters the premises.” He paused. “As long as an alarm doesn’t go off every time Spike comes in.”

 

She smiled. “I think I can make an exception for him.” Mairead gestured to the boxes. “Would you like some help? I haven’t anywhere else I need to be.”

 

Giles hesitated. “If you’d like.”

 

“It would be my pleasure.” After some hesitation, she admitted, “I’m a bit homesick, and hearing you speak—”

 

“Say no more,” he said. “I’ll make some tea.”

 

Mairead rolled up her sleeves. It was good to have something useful with which to occupy her time.

 

~~~~~

 

“Crap,” Buffy said, staring at Giles in dismay. “I completely forgot about Toth.”

 

“Who?” came the collective question.

 

“The demon that Giles scared off with Oofdar, goddess of childbirth,” Buffy replied. “He wants to split me into my Slayer and human halves. Last time, he hit Xander instead.”

 

Xander’s eyes widened. “Why me?”

 

“You shoved me out of the way,” Buffy admitted. She had noticed that Anya wasn’t there, nor had she been at the Scooby meeting the other night. She wanted to ask Xander if everything was okay, but she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of everybody.

 

Willow frowned. “How did that work, though? Xander’s not the Slayer.”

 

“It was like Xander got split into his stronger and weaker qualities,” Buffy replied. “Both were still Xander, but just—more.”

 

“Probably better if Spike and I don’t risk getting hit then,” Oz pointed out.

 

She hadn’t even thought of that possibility. If she couldn’t risk the Slayer and human sides being split, Buffy didn’t even want to know what would happen to a vampire and a werewolf. It could get very ugly. “I’ll let Spike know,” she replied. “And you should probably stay off the search tonight, too.”

 

“Isn’t it just as dangerous for the rest of us?” Willow asked. “I know if it was me—”

 

Buffy knew that her friend had a point. They all had strengths and weaknesses that could be dangerous if concentrated.

 

“I don’t think we need to worry quite so much about you three,” Giles said, referring to the three witches. “Both of you can shield yourselves magically the way that the others can’t.” He looked at Buffy. “You may want to think about asking Graham for his assistance.”

 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Buffy admitted. “Riley was with us the last time, and I’d rather take care of Toth the first time I confront him.”

 

Giles nodded. “Good. I think between the five of us, we’ll be able to take care of the problem.”

 

“Five?” Xander objected. “I can go.”

 

Buffy hesitated. “Maybe it would be better if you don’t, Xan. You could spend some time with Anya tonight. I know you’ve been pretty busy lately.”

 

He winced. “She’s not happy with me.”

 

“Then what better chance to make her happy?” Willow asked pragmatically. When the others looked at her in surprise, knowing how she felt about the ex-demon, she shrugged, “I want Xander to be happy. If Anya can do it, fine.”

 

Buffy saw Oz give her a proud smile and squeeze her hand, and she smiled. As Willow had said, all she really wanted was to see her friends happy.

 

The phone in the Magic Box rang, and Giles picked up. “Hello?” There was a pause, and he lowered his voice. “Of course. What time?”

 

Buffy frowned. She could smell a secret from a mile away, and she somehow knew that Giles was worried about her overhearing for some reason. “What was that about?” she asked once he’d hung up.

 

His expression was bland. “Nothing, just a delivery.”

 

Her eyes narrowed. She knew that Giles was lying to her, but Buffy decided to let it slide. She’d figure it out one way or another. “Are we still on for tonight?”

 

“Of course. Where are we going to start?” Giles asked.

 

Buffy smiled. “The dump. That’s where he was the last time.”

 

“I did smell an odor about him,” Mairead stated.

 

She gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Maybe we can take care of him the first night out this time.”

 

~~~~~

 

Willow was more than a little nervous. Her over-active imagination kept going over what might happen should she get split into her better and worse halves. She could easily see herself destroying Sunnydale before Buffy could put her back together again.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Oz said, taking her hands in his. “You’re going to do great.”

 

“What if—”

 

“No. You’ve changed,” he reminded her. “You’re not the same person anymore.”

 

Willow took a deep breath. It helped to know that he believed in her. “Yeah.”

 

“Be careful.”

 

She shared a kiss with him, gaining both strength and comfort from his embrace. Willow knew that in that other future she’d been with Tara, but she had a hard time imagining herself with anyone other than Oz. Other than Xander, he was the only person she’d ever been in love with.

 

And the feelings she had for Oz couldn’t compare to what she felt for Xander.

 

“Gotta go,” she said. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

 

Giles was already in the driveway with Buffy when they walked outside, the top of his car down in spite of the cooler night air. Willow climbed into the back seat next to Tara, who sat in the middle. “Ready?” he asked.

 

“Let’s go,” Buffy replied.

 

Willow wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and felt Tara’s hand on her arm. “You’ll do fine.”

 

“Don’t you wonder what would happen?” Willow asked in an undertone.

 

A shadow passed across her face. “Yeah, but it’s not going to happen. We know what to guard against now.”

 

Willow nodded, wondering what frightened Tara so much about the idea, and wondering if Mairead knew her fears.

 

They smelled the dump before it came into view, and Willow wrinkled her nose. “Eww. Who would want to come here?”

 

Buffy turned in her seat. “Well, Spike did to get stuff for his crypt the last time.”

 

Willow shook her head, amazed as always at the changes Spike had gone through. “I thought Graham was meeting us.”

 

“He is.” She pointed.

 

Willow saw the soldier leaning up against a Jeep, looking pretty relaxed for a guy about to go out and find a demon who could split him in two. Of course, from the little contact she’d had with him, Graham had reminded her of Oz. Even if he was freaking out inside, she didn’t think they’d see much of it on the outside.

 

“Hey, Graham.” Buffy greeted him cheerfully as they got out of the car.

 

He smiled briefly, nodding impartially at everyone. “Hey. What’s this demon look like?”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Down to business, huh? He’s big, black cloak, big staff, and scabby. You really can’t miss him, although it’s probably a good idea if he misses you.”

 

Graham lifted his rifle. “I’ll do my best.”

 

Willow noticed that he was carrying a regular gun, rather than one of the special blasters the Initiative soldiers usually had. “What’s up with the regular weapon?” she asked, curious.

 

“It works better,” he explained. “I’ve got a couple of stakes for vampires. Since we’re not looking to capture demons at this point, no one cares if we kill them.”

 

“What did you do with all the demons you had captured?” Giles inquired.

 

Discomfort flickered in his expression. “We killed them. We weren’t going to free them.”

 

Willow noticed that the only ones who looked uncomfortable with that idea, other than the soldier, were Buffy and Mairead. She wondered if any of the demons were harmless, like the ones Spike helped out on a regular basis.

 

She caught a whisper of sound to her right, and she turned in time to see Toth leveling his staff in Buffy’s direction. “Buffy! Look out!”

 

Willow tried to snap up a barrier spell in time, but it was harder to protect someone else, and she wasn’t quite fast enough. Giles, however, moved to protect his Slayer, standing between her and the magical energy.

 

She just hoped that Tara or Mairead had managed the barrier spell in time.


	39. Double the Trouble

Spike was not happy. When Buffy had told him that they were going after Toth, and that he was not invited, he’d argued vehemently, pointing out that it would be just as dangerous if she got split in two. She’d suggested that having his demon and soul split would likely result in harm to others and to himself; her Slayer half could at least be trusted not to eat people.

 

It might be true, but he didn’t have to like it.

 

Spending the evening with Joyce and Dawn was an enjoyable way to pass the time, but he was preoccupied with worry over Buffy.

 

Joyce noticed his anxiety, of course, as sensitive as she usually was. “I’m sure she’s fine, Spike.” She spoke in a low voice to prevent Dawn from hearing. The girl was entranced by some drivel about a boy band, which was keeping her occupied. He didn’t think he was up to fielding her questions tonight.

 

“I know.” He mustered a smile, knowing that his worry only fed hers. “When are you going in for the tests?”

 

Joyce looked startled. “How did you know?”

 

“Lucky guess,” he admitted. “Knew you’d make sure it happened, and I knew you had a doctor’s appointment.”

 

She nodded. “Rupert is going to go with me.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “You and Rupert, huh?”

 

She blushed. “I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t know?”

 

“He’s a friend,” she hissed, casting an anxious look at Dawn. “And they don’t know.”

 

Spike didn’t need to ask who “they” were. “When are you going to tell them? About the tests and the relationship?”

 

“I don’t know that there is a relationship,” Joyce was quick to say. “And I’ll talk to both of them after the results come back. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything.”

 

He hated the thought of keeping a secret from Buffy, but he understood why Joyce was asking him to do so. “Yeah, sure.”

 

When the phone rang, they looked at one another. Joyce was the first to reach for the phone. “Hello?”

 

Spike picked up Buffy’s voice on the other end easily. “Hey, Mom. Have you seen Giles?”

 

“No, I thought he was with you.”

 

“He is. I mean, he was. If he shows up, could you do your best to keep him there?”

 

Joyce frowned. “Buffy, what’s this about?”

 

“There was a small incident with Toth,” Buffy hedged. “It’ll be fine, Mom. We’re working on it.”

 

Joyce’s voice got very suspicious. “What does that have to do with Rupert?”

 

“He, um, he might have gotten split. In two.” Buffy rushed on. “But I promise we’re going to put him back together. Sorry, Mom. Gotta go. Love you!”

 

The line went dead, and Joyce put the phone down slowly. “Do you know what she was talking about?”

 

“Toth’s staff will split a person into their better and worse halves,” Spike replied. “It was why she didn’t want me coming along tonight. Dunno what would be so bad about Rupert getting split, though. He’s a tough old—” Spike reconsidered what he was about to say. “—bloke, but don’t think he’d be dangerous.”

 

Joyce didn’t comment on his change in word choice. “You didn’t know him when he was sixteen.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “And you did?”

 

“Has Buffy told you about the band candy?”

 

He shook his head. “No. What happened?”

 

“Let’s just say that Rupert wasn’t always so responsible,” Joyce hedged.

 

Spike had a feeling that this could get very interesting.

 

~~~~~

 

“We absolutely must find my other half immediately, Buffy,” Giles insisted. “There’s no telling what damage he—I—might do.”

 

Buffy barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I _know_ , Giles. Believe me, I know.” She looked at Graham. “How are you doing?”

 

The soldier still looked a little stunned. Buffy remembered how she’d felt after realizing that vampires and demons were real; Graham was probably feeling much the same after seeing how magic worked with his own eyes. He’d kept his head, though, and he was the one who had killed Toth, so at least they didn’t have to worry about him.

 

Unfortunately, while Giles wanted to reverse Toth’s magic immediately, Ripper had a completely different idea.

 

“I’m okay,” he said, his voice steady. “It’s just—” Graham shook his head. “I thought _Adam_ was weird.”

 

Buffy grinned. “He was. At least magic is sort of natural. Have Willow or one of the others explain it sometime. It’s all natural forces, or something like that.”

 

“Do you think they’ll be able to find the other one?” Graham asked with a sideways look at Giles.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. They weren’t sure how the locator spell would work with two of them.”

 

“It will probably locate both of us,” Giles said. “That’s what I would assume, at least. The locator spell focuses in on a person’s essence.”

 

“Thank you for the lesson, Giles.” Buffy didn’t bother hiding her sarcasm. She’d forgotten how stuffy and pedantic he could be at times. It appeared that she’d been left with tweedy Giles; she hadn’t missed him.

 

“I’m just saying that perhaps we should wait until the spell is complete,” Giles said.

 

Buffy turned to glare at him. “Who’s the Slayer here?”

 

“I _am_ your Watcher,” he reminded her needlessly. “I know what’s best.”

 

She snorted. “Sure you do. Look, let me handle this, okay?”

 

“If I let you handle it, there’s no telling whether I’ll be put back together again.”

 

Buffy stopped in her tracks. “Okay, you know what, Giles? Go home. Wait for me there. You’re not helping.”

 

“Buffy—”

 

“Go.” She wasn’t about to argue with him; his words had stung more than she wanted to acknowledge.

 

He frowned at her, but turned and walked away. Buffy sighed as she watched him go. “Do you still want to help, Graham?”

 

“Just tell me what you need me to do,” he replied.

 

She gave him a grateful smile. “You’re doing it.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Come on, Anya,” Xander muttered. “Open the door.”

 

“I’m not talking to you, Xander,” she told him through the door. “You found an apartment without me.”

 

“I wanted to surprise you!” he protested.

 

“You should have told me!”

 

“Can we talk about this inside?” Xander asked. “Please?”

 

The door opened slowly. “By letting you in, I’m not saying that I forgive you.”

 

“Fine,” he replied, ready to agree to anything if only she’d talk to him. When she stepped away from the door, Xander followed her inside. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

 

Anya turned to glare at him. “You didn’t even tell me that you were going to get that apartment. It’s like you don’t even care what I think.”

 

Xander ran his fingers through his hair. “I care. I’ve always cared.”

 

She sat down on her second hand couch and crossed her arms. “I don’t believe you.”

 

“I don’t know how to prove that.”

 

“You could start by being honest with me.”

 

“How have I not been honest?” Xander demanded.

 

Anya stared at him. “You’re in love with Buffy.”

 

His eyes went wide. “What?”

 

“I know something happens between us,” Anya said. “From what Buffy and Spike have said, I know this doesn’t last, and if it doesn’t, maybe it would be better to end it now.”

 

Xander shook his head. “No, An. Don’t do this.”

 

“Why not when you don’t care about me?”

 

“I _do_ care about you!” he burst out. “I’m moving into the apartment for you! So you can be with me, and we don’t have to worry about my parents fighting all the time! You were the one telling me that I had to move, and I wanted to surprise you. I did it for you!”

 

Anya stared at him, her eyes wide. “You really mean it?”

 

“Of course I mean it,” Xander said, lowering his voice. “I don’t know what else to say to prove it to you.”

 

“I thought you were in love with Buffy,” Anya confessed. “You always put her first, and sometimes you look at her—”

 

Xander wasn’t often completely honest, even with himself, but he knew that he didn’t have a choice now. “Buffy’s my hero, but you’re the woman I want to be with. I can’t lose you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really. I love you.” He leaned forward and captured her lips with his. Anya clutched his shirt, pulling him closer. Xander tangled his fingers in her hair, cradling her head with his hands.

 

She fumbled at the hem of his shirt. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she confessed.

 

“You won’t,” he promised. “As soon as I get the keys to the apartment, we’ll go over there. I’ll need your help decorating. I’m no good at that, and you are.”

 

“I love you.”

 

That was all Xander needed to know, and all he wanted.

 

~~~~~

 

The doorbell rang, and Spike waved Joyce to sit. “I’ll get it.”

 

Joyce frowned, listening as he pulled the door open. “Rupert. I wondered if you were going to drop by.”

 

“Is Joyce here?”

 

“She’s in the living room,” Spike replied.

 

She rose from the couch to meet him, wondering if Buffy had put him back together again, and if she hadn’t, which Giles had shown up at her door. “Joyce.” His eyes flicked over Dawn, who was watching with wide eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

She frowned. “And where are we going?”

 

“My place,” he replied. “Spike can stay with Dawn.”

 

“Mom?” Dawn asked, looking between the two of them in surprise.

 

Joyce was forcibly reminded of the evening Buffy had walked in on her kissing Ted; that had not gone well. “Spike, would you take Dawn into the kitchen, please? We could all use some hot cocoa.”

 

Spike raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t argue. “Come on, Bit.” He put a hand on the girl’s shoulder to steer her into the kitchen. “You can show me where your mum keeps the little marshmallows.”

 

Joyce rounded on Giles immediately. “What the hell are you thinking?”

 

“I was thinking we could finally take this to the next level without that annoying berk getting in the way,” he said.

 

She remembered the expression on his face from the band candy—all too well. Ripper’s attitude had appealed to her teenage self; Joyce had always had a thing for the bad boy. She was a grown woman, however, and her daughter had just been told that she was in a relationship with someone in the most callous way possible.

 

“I happen to like ‘that annoying berk,’” she shot back. “Have you completely forgotten that we were taking our relationship slow? Or that my daughters didn’t know about it yet?”

 

“I thought we could move past that,” he replied, sounding sulky. “We’ve got something, Joyce.” Giles stepped closer, and she could smell his aftershave and sweat. To tell the truth, it made her a bit weak in the knees. “You know,” he whispered in her ear. “You could give the two of us a go at once.”

 

Joyce would never, ever admit it out loud, but the thought was tempting. “I think we should put you back together.” She squelched the small pang of regret. It was no fun being the grownup at times.

 

He shrugged. “I’ll see you later, then. I’ve got things to do tonight.”

 

“No, you don’t,” Spike said, entering the living room. “You’re staying right here.”

 

Giles pushed his chest out belligerently. “Oh, yeah? Why should I?”

 

“Can’t answer that, but I can tell you that you’re _not_ leaving,” Spike replied. “I’d hate to hurt you, but I will. So sit down.”

 

For a moment, Joyce thought that Giles was going to as he was told, but then he swung at Spike, hitting him with a solid right upper-cut.

 

Dawn let out a frightened squeak from the doorway, and Giles brushed past her, coming close to knocking her over on his way out the door. Spike was up, rubbing his jaw, a split-second later. “Bloody hell!” he burst out. “Nibblet? You alright?”

 

“I’m good,” she replied.

 

Spike was out the door a moment later, and Joyce went to put her arm around Dawn, who allowed it, even though the stiffness of her posture said that she wasn’t happy.

 

It only took a few minutes for Spike to drag Giles back in by the back of his shirt, his expression showing a grim satisfaction. “Now sit,” he ordered, shoving Giles at the general direction of the couch. “And if you try something like that again, I’ll lay you out.”

 

“You wouldn’t,” Giles sneered. “You’re too henpecked.”

 

Spike smirked. “And happy for it, with a woman like Buffy, but no. You go ahead and try it, and I’ll plant one on you.”

 

“Buffy left us with very specific instructions to keep you here,” Joyce said primly, trying to defuse the tension. “Do you want hot cocoa?”

 

“Are there little marshmallows?” he asked hopefully, sounding more like the Giles she’d come to be very fond of. He was apparently very easily distracted, and Joyce remembered that he’d been this way while under the influence of the band candy, too.

 

Joyce sighed. “I think there’s enough for the two of you.” She headed towards the kitchen; it appeared that the question of whether or not Giles was attracted to her had been answered, although it could have come at a better time.

 

“You didn’t tell me you were dating Buffy’s Watcher!” Dawn said, following her into the kitchen, and clearly outraged.

 

Joyce closed her eyes and prayed silently for patience. “We’re not dating; we’re friends. Giles only said what he did because of Toth’s spell.” She could hardly believe those words had come out of her mouth. When had magic and demons become commonplace?

 

Dawn pouted. “You should have told me. It’s not fair that I’m always the last person to know.”

 

“Frankly, Dawn, it’s really not any of your business that I’m friends with Rupert. Now, you may stay up and drink your cocoa if you can act like an adult. Otherwise, you can go to bed.” Joyce used her best “mom voice.”

 

The girl looked as sulky as Giles had a moment ago. “Okay.”

 

“Good.” Joyce took a deep breath. “And I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Buffy about this.”

 

Dawn brightened immediately. “Buffy doesn’t know?”

 

“There isn’t anything _to_ know,” Joyce insisted. “But if there were something to know, then no. Buffy doesn’t know, and I want to keep it that way.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Go take Giles’ mug out to him,” Joyce directed, pausing before grabbing the other two mugs. “It could be worse,” she reminded herself. “I don’t know how, but it could always be worse.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Can you tell where they are?” Mairead asked anxiously.

 

Tara nodded. “One is at Giles’ apartment, and the other is at Buffy’s house.” She glanced up. “How are we going to put them back together?”

 

“Wouldn’t Buffy know?” Willow asked. “Or Spike?”

 

“Spike stayed with Joyce tonight, so we could ask him when we get there,” Tara replied. “But I don’t know how much he really knows about this thing.”

 

Mairead shook her head. “That bit shouldn’t be difficult. The natural inclination would be to unite; we can merely facilitate the joining.”

 

“What do you guys need?” Oz asked from the sidelines.

 

Willow gave him a grateful smile. “Would you grab my bag? It’s under the bed. I’ll call Mrs. Summers and let her know we’re coming.”

 

“We can pick up the other Giles on the way,” Tara agreed. “If Oz doesn’t mind driving, it won’t take long.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Oz called from their bedroom, his sharp ears picking up her comment.

 

Mairead smirked. “You know,” she began in a whisper, “if I had known that men like that existed…” She trailed off, letting her expression fill in the blanks.

 

Tara snickered, knowing that her girlfriend was teasing, but they had both commented on Oz’s sweetness more than once. She often wondered what he thought of being in a house with three women, but he kept his feelings to himself.

 

Willow blushed but confined her reply to a very smug, “I know.”

 

Tara wondered if Oz had any idea why they started to giggle as soon as he re-entered the room.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn was _not_ happy with the evening’s events. Her mom was dating _Giles_ , who didn’t even like her all that much. And, if that wasn’t bad enough, it was supposed to be a night where she had Joyce and Spike all to herself; that didn’t happen very often.

 

Instead, her mom was flustered and upset because Giles had let the cat out of the bag, Spike was busy watching him to make sure he didn’t try to leave and get into trouble somewhere, and Dawn was stuck on her own. Again. It really wasn’t fair.

 

She punctuated the sentence in her journal with a stab of the pen.

 

Dawn could remember her mom dating Ted, and how he and Buffy hadn’t gotten along at all. She hadn’t thought he was so bad, and he’d made really good food. She had totally been on her sister’s side of things, though, when he’d started coming down on her. They might not always get along, but they _were_ sisters, which meant that no one got to mess with one without incurring the wrath of the other.

 

Not that Giles would be mean or rude, but he would probably be huffy and ignore her a lot, and he _was_ Buffy’s Watcher, so she would probably be on his side.

 

It really wasn’t fair.

 

The quiet knock on the door had her eyes narrowing. “Who’s there?”

 

“It’s me, Bit.” Spike opened the door cautiously. “Can I come in?”

 

She scrambled off of her stomach to sit up, trying to straighten her clothes. “Yeah.”

 

“You should be asleep,” he observed with a smile.

 

Dawn shook her head. “I’m not tired.”

 

“Yeah, it’s a bit too exciting downstairs to sleep, isn’t it?”

 

“Have they put him back together yet?”

 

Spike shrugged. “They’re working on it. The magic circle has to be just so, but Oz and your mum are keeping an eye on both of them.” There was a glint in his eye that Dawn didn’t understand.

 

She stared down at the floor. “Did you know about them?”

 

“Knew they were friends, but nothing more than that.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “Give her a break, Bit. Life can get awful lonely sometimes, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting someone to share it with.”

 

Dawn looked up at him, betrayed. “She has me! And Buffy.”

 

“Not the same.” His eyes were very kind. “You just wait. Someday, you’ll have some handsome bloke knocking on your door, and this will make a whole lot more sense.” Spike flashed her an evil smile. “That is, if I don’t scare him off first.”

 

“You wouldn’t,” Dawn said matter-of-factly. “Not if he made me happy.”

 

Spike swallowed. “Yeah. Not if he made you happy. Unless he was a wanker, an’ then I’d chase him off for your own good.”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes, then leaned back against him. “Spike?”

 

“Yeah, Dawn?”

 

“Will you tell me something?”

 

“If I can.”

 

“Why is Buffy acting so weird around me lately?”

 

She felt him draw in a deep breath, and she wondered if he was going to lie to her. Dawn was tired of being lied to. “Buffy’s worried about you.”

 

That sounded like the truth. “Why?”

 

“Because she knows that there are bad guys out there who might come after you or your mum knowing that she’s the Slayer.”

 

Dawn hadn’t thought about that before. “Oh.”

 

He moved so he could see her face, meeting her eyes with an intensity that Dawn had never seen before. “I need you to promise me that you’re going to be careful, Bit. If anything happened to you, it would kill both of us.”

 

Dawn felt a thrill of fear, and she nodded shakily. “I promise.”

 

“Good girl.” Spike pulled her into a rough hug. “Best get to bed. You’ve got school tomorrow.”

 

She hesitated. “Okay, but can I ask you one more thing?”

 

“Yeah. What is it?”

 

“Would you stay until I fall asleep?”

 

Spike smiled. “I’ll stay.”

 

Dawn didn’t know why, but she felt safest when she was with Spike.


	40. Ties That Bind

Giles straightened his clothing, feeling more than a little embarrassed. He had somehow managed to alienate both Buffy and Joyce in the brief time he’d been split in two; Xander had done quite a bit better with his disparate halves.

 

He glanced up to catch Joyce’s eye, but she was already turning to go upstairs. “Would you guys like something to drink?”

 

“That’s okay, Mrs. Summers,” Willow replied, clearing the last of their supplies from the basement floor. “It’s late, and we should probably let you get to bed.”

 

Joyce smiled at her over her shoulder. “I’m going to wait up for Buffy, so there’s no trouble.”

 

“Mom!” Buffy’s voice called from upstairs.

 

She hurried up the stairs, and Giles started after her. He had a feeling that it would be easier to fix things with Buffy than with Joyce; he still couldn’t believe what he’d said to her.

 

Spike was already in the kitchen with Buffy, and he realized that Joyce probably hadn’t told Spike not to say anything.

 

Joyce seemed to realize the same thing. “Spike—”

 

The vampire raised an eyebrow. “I was just telling Buffy how we put Humpty Dumpty back together again.”

 

Buffy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously; Giles wondered if the relief on his face was mirrored on Joyce’s. Since she still refused to meet his eyes, he couldn’t tell. “I see.”

 

“Buffy,” Giles began.

 

She waved him off. “Forget it, Giles. You weren’t yourself.”

 

He nodded, relieved. “Thank you.”

 

Graham cleared his throat. “I should get going.”

 

“Thanks for your help tonight, Graham,” Buffy said sincerely.

 

He shrugged. “No problem. Let me know if you need me again.”

 

“He seems like such a nice young man,” Joyce reflected once he was gone.

 

Buffy smiled. “He is.” She looked at Spike. “Ready to go? I’ve got classes in the morning.”

 

“So do we,” Willow inserted. “We should get going.”

 

Giles listened to them leave, their shared laughter echoing back through the kitchen. When the door had closed behind them, he turned to Joyce. “I’m sorry.”

 

She looked at him, exasperated. “I didn’t want Dawn to find out like that.”

 

“I realize that,” he replied. “I didn’t either. If I could take it back—”

 

“You can’t.” Joyce shook her head. “As Buffy said, I know you weren’t yourself.”

 

“I meant what I said.” Giles felt a bit desperate. He remembered losing Jenny just as he was rebuilding his relationship with her, and with his knowledge of the future, he knew the same could happen again. “We can go as fast or as slow as you like, but I need you to know how I feel.”

 

Her face softened. “Rupert…”

 

“I lost one woman I loved. To lose you, if you didn’t know—”

 

She kissed him. Her lips were soft and warm under his, tasting, teasing. Her thumb stroked the line of his jaw. “To tell you the truth, I was tempted by the idea of two of you.”

 

Giles raised an eyebrow. “We might be able to recover Toth’s staff.”

 

Joyce just laughed.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike looked from the now-empty cavern to the ring on his finger. He didn’t want to give it up, but he’d heard the rumors for himself now. If he didn’t want the Gem of Amara to fall into the wrong hands, he didn’t have much choice. Even if he only went out during the day, it still wouldn’t prevent him from being attacked at his apartment, and the ring taken.

 

It wasn’t so much that he was afraid for himself; Spike knew what he would have done if he’d had the ring while still evil. It wouldn’t have been pretty, and he didn’t want to give Buffy one more problem to solve.

 

At least his plan to clear out the cavern and put away a little nest egg had borne fruit.

 

“Spike?”

 

He turned to look behind him. Buffy was giving him an odd look. “Are you okay?” She’d finally talked him into letting her see the cavern after he’d admitted that the tunnels were probably safe enough. Spike could understand her curiosity, but he didn’t get why she was so insistent on coming with him.

 

“Yeah, fine, luv.” Spike pulled the ring off of his finger. “Looks like I’ll be giving this up.”

 

She closed his fingers back over the ring. “Giles has his opening tomorrow. Keep it until after that.”

 

Spike slipped the ring on his finger again. “Alright.”

 

Buffy put her hand through his arm. “Come on. I want to talk to you.”

 

He wasn’t sure he was ready for this conversation. Things had been quiet over the last week. Glory was nowhere to be seen, Giles was busy getting his shop ready, and had already hired Anya to help. Joyce was still waiting for her test results. Everything else was business as usual.

 

“What’s going on, pet?”

 

“You know how I said I’d marry you?”

 

Spike braced himself. He’d been wondering if she was going to back out; it wasn’t like they’d made it official yet. “Yeah?”

 

She turned to him. “Give me a leg up?”

 

He did as she asked, boosting her out of the tunnel and following a moment later. “What about getting married?”

 

“I think that if we’re going to get married, we need to be honest with each other, right?”

 

“Probably would be good,” Spike admitted.

 

“Then would you tell me what has you so worried?”

 

He frowned. “Worried? Who said I was worried?”

 

Buffy huffed. “Give me a little credit, Spike. I might not be quite as good at reading you as you are at reading me, but I know when you’re worried.”

 

“How much did the ring change things, Buffy?”

 

Her eyes went wide. “You think I want to be with you because of that stupid ring?”

 

The dangerous tone told Spike what the right answer was. “Uh, no.”

 

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Try again, buster.”

 

“It’s just that I can walk in the sun with you, Buffy. I wonder how that’s going to change when I’m not wearing it full time.” He rubbed the scar that ran through his eyebrow. “You might not want to marry me.”

 

Buffy took a deep, audible breath. “Okay, I think I get what you’re saying. To be honest, the ring was nice, but it wasn’t everything. And I seem to remember that you got around the sun problem before.”

 

“I know that.” Spike hated that she might think that he doubted her love for him; he didn’t. It was just that he still didn’t quite believe himself worthy of her. The ring allowed him the pretense of being human, and normal.

 

She took his hand. “If it makes you feel any better, sometimes I wonder when you’re going to wake up and realize that I’m not the girl you want.”

 

He turned startled eyes to look at her. “Buffy—”

 

“Face it,” she forged ahead. “This thing between us shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t, but it does, and it’s not because of the ring, or your soul, or anything else. It’s just us, not giving up.”

 

Spike plunged his hand into his pocket. “Then you won’t mind that I got you this.”

 

Her eyes flew to his face, then to the black velvet box. “Oh.”

 

“If you don’t like it, we can take it back, and you can pick something else out,” he said. “Figured I’d give you one last chance to back out before it was too late.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Spike, it’s beautiful.” She pulled the ring out with a trembling hand. “I’m not backing out.”

 

“Didn’t think you would,” Spike said. “Not really. I just wondered if things were going to change.”

 

“Not unless it’s for the better,” Buffy responded. She grinned. “All we have to do now is have a party.”

 

“Thought we’d already done that,” Spike said with a puzzled frown, referring to their impromptu celebration at the Bronze.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “That wasn’t official. Mom’s going to want to help plan this one.”

 

“I’m not going to like this very much, am I?” he asked wryly.

 

Buffy shrugged. “I think I can make it worth your while.”

 

Spike was sure she could. Seeing his ring on her finger was enough.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara entered the gallery, hearing the bell above the door chime, then stopped in her tracks. Joyce stood in the middle of the room, holding a baby in her arms. “Oh, Tara, I didn’t realize you were coming in today. You remember Judy, don’t you?”

 

She nodded, managing a strained smile. “Yes. It’s nice to see you again.”

 

“Judy brought her daughter in for me to see. Isn’t she precious?”

 

Tara had to acknowledge that she was; the baby was beautiful. The only problem was that this was exactly what she had seen in her vision, the one she’d told Buffy and the others about. The one they’d taken as evidence that Joyce would survive her illness.

 

She had no idea if this meant something. Scrying wasn’t an exact science. She might have seen Joyce holding the infant because she was going to be working at the gallery, or for another reason that had not yet become clear.

 

Pushing aside her confusion, Tara smiled, and accepted the offer to hold the baby. Judy stayed for another twenty minutes, until Joyce had to take a personal phone call. Then Tara grabbed the duster and began to straighten things up.

 

“Can you watch the shop for the rest of the afternoon, Tara?” Joyce asked as soon as she got off the phone.

 

Tara nodded. “Is everything okay?”

 

The older woman gave her a pained smile. “The doctor said my test results are in. He wants to speak with me, and he had an opening today.”

 

“Good luck.” Tara watched her leave, then sat down behind the small counter with a deep breath. She knew that she wasn’t to blame for whatever the test results happened to be, but she couldn’t help but feel that she should have been able to foresee more clearly.

 

The afternoon went by slowly; she kept looking at the clock and wondering how Joyce’s appointment had gone. Tara had grown very fond of her in the short time she’d worked at the gallery. Her mom had been very different, but there were certain qualities that they shared, and that certainly strengthened her desire to do anything she could to help.

 

She’d been helpless to save her mom; she still had time to help Joyce.

 

When the clock finally struck six, Tara gathered her things and closed up the shop. She found Mairead waiting outside for her, hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. “Hello.”

 

Tara was relieved to see her girlfriend. Mairead was one of the few people who could make her feel as though everything would turn out for the best. “Hi.”

 

Their kiss was brief, but Mairead must have picked up on her anxiety, because she frowned. “What’s wrong, love?”

 

“I—” She hesitated. “Let’s not talk here.”

 

“I’m a bit peckish,” Mairead admitted. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

 

They headed to one of the few restaurants in town that had both good food and was inexpensive enough to suit them. Once they had placed their orders, Mairead reached across the table for her hands. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Did I tell you about the first scrying I did here?” Tara asked. When Mairead shook her head, she briefly explained what Spike and Buffy had asked her to do, and what she’d seen. “Buffy wanted to know if Mrs. Summers made it, and when I looked in the bowl, I saw her with a baby. I guess we all thought it was Buffy’s baby, or maybe Dawn’s—in the future.”

 

“And today?” she prompted.

 

“I saw it. I saw Mrs. Summers with a baby when I walked in the gallery. It was exactly what I had seen in the bowl.” Tara took a deep breath. “I don’t know what it means, though, or why I would see _that_. It doesn’t seem to relate to anything.”

 

Mairead frowned. “It could be a pattern. What else did you see that day?”

 

“That was the last thing,” Tara replied. “It’s what I saw when Buffy asked me if I could see anything with her mother.”

 

“And did you try again soon after?”

 

“A day or two later,” Tara admitted.

 

“What did you see?” Mairead asked.

 

She looked away. Her family had been one topic she’d said little about, for any number of reasons. “My family coming for me.”

 

Mairead’s grip tightened. “Just because they come for you doesn’t mean you have to leave with them.”

 

“I know that.” Tara smiled. “I know the truth about who and what I am. The coven gave me that.”

 

She nodded. “Then perhaps that’s why you saw what you did. Your birthday is only a few days away.”

 

Tara hadn’t really thought of that, but it made sense. “I saw Mrs. Summers holding a baby because my family was coming.” Her heart sank. “What am I going to tell Buffy?”

 

“Nothing right now,” Mairead advised. “We can try scrying again, this time for information specifically about Mrs. Summers.”

 

Tara’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

 

“What? Two at once?” Mairead asked. “It’s not easy, but it can be done, assuming that both want to see the same thing. Often, each wants to see something different, and nothing is accomplished. We shouldn’t have to worry about that, and with two, there can be more power, and a clearer sight, if there is any sight at all.”

 

Tara thought it was a good plan. The last thing she wanted was to tell Buffy that her mom might still die when they knew nothing of the sort, and Mairead’s explanation made sense. She’d had thoughts of her family in the back of her mind the first time she’d tried to look into the future. It had likely been enough to influence the vision.

 

“When should we try it?”

 

“Tonight,” Mairead replied. “I don’t think you’ll rest until we do.”

 

Tara didn’t disagree. The sooner they could find out, the better, in her opinion.

 

~~~~~

 

“Mom?” Buffy entered the house, Spike right behind her. Joyce hadn’t sounded great on the phone, and she had a feeling that she knew what was wrong already.

 

“Hello, sweetie,” Joyce said from the living room. “Thanks for coming.” She smiled at Spike. “You, too, Spike.”

 

He stopped in the doorway. “I can leave if you want.”

 

“No, you should be here,” Joyce said.

 

“Where’s Dawn?” Buffy asked.

 

“At a friend’s house. I didn’t want to worry her.”

 

“You went to the doctor, and it’s bad news,” Buffy said flatly, sitting down next to her mom on the couch.

 

Joyce nodded. “The doctor said he could see something that concerned him on the scan. He wants to do a biopsy.”

 

“When?”

 

“Tomorrow. There wasn’t time today, or he’d have done it immediately.” Joyce reached for her hand. “I don’t want you to worry.”

 

Buffy tried to smile and couldn’t quite manage it. “I can’t help it.”

 

“Think you should get a second opinion,” Spike said. He was leaning against the wall, as though he didn’t want to intrude on their privacy.

 

Joyce frowned. “I’m sure the doctors here are good.”

 

“Maybe so, but this is Sunnydale,” Spike replied. “There might be better doctors, who could do a better job.”

 

Buffy immediately saw his point. “Spike’s right. There have to be doctors who specialize in this kind of thing and remove brain tumors all the time.”

 

Joyce shook her head. “I don’t think I’d be able to afford that, Buffy. The insurance—”

 

“I’ll take care of it,” Spike broke in.

 

Her eyes widened. “I can’t let you do that.”

 

“Sure you can,” he replied. “Half of what I found in that cavern is Buffy’s by right, or it will be when we make it official. And I’d like to keep you around, too.”

 

Buffy could see her mom blinking back tears, although she wasn’t sure why. The fact that Spike thought the world of her was no secret.

 

“What about Dawn?” Joyce said. “And the gallery?

 

“We can take care of Dawn,” Buffy replied. “I think you took medical leave the last time. You could get another manager to cover for you. It wouldn’t even be that long. Just to get a second opinion, and then for treatments.”

 

Joyce was quiet for a moment. “I have to get through the biopsy first, and the test results. The doctor wasn’t sure how long that would take, but it could be a couple of days.”

 

“Whatever you decide to do, Mom.” Buffy hugged her, feeling her mom grab on just as hard.

 

She wished there was something she could do to ensure that Joyce would be okay, some spell, or drug, or _anything_ to keep her around for a long time to come.

 

Joyce finally released her, saying, “I should probably call Rupert. I wanted to tell you first.”

 

“When is Dawn coming home?” Buffy asked.

 

“Another hour or so,” Joyce replied. “Michelle’s mom was going to bring her back.”

 

“We’ll stay until then,” Buffy promised.

 

When she’d left the room, Buffy turned to Spike. “You don’t think we should send Dawn away, too?”

 

“Would your mum allow it?” he asked. “She’s got school. Figure if it comes down to it, we can ship her off. Let your Watcher get both of them out of town for a bit. We know when Glory is going to want to do it.”

 

Buffy nodded in agreement, knowing that he had a point. It wouldn’t help her sister to start disrupting her life now, although they were probably going to have to tell her she was the Key soon. She didn’t want to, but she remembered how Dawn had found out the first time, and that had not been a good situation.

 

“We’re gonna get through this,” he promised in a low voice. “I love you.”

 

“I know.” Buffy rested her head against his shoulder, taking a few moments’ respite. Now, as before, Spike was the only person she would allow to see her weakness. “Do you remember when Mom went in for tests the first time?”

 

She could hear the nostalgia in his voice. “Yeah. I’d planned on killing you, and you looked up at me, and I knew I was lost.”

 

“You were pretty sweet, and I had no idea what to do with that,” she confessed. “You were the only one I let see me cry when Mom was sick.”

 

“My shoulder is always available.”

 

“I know.”

 

That, at least, she could take comfort in.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara took a deep breath. “Okay, so how are we going to do this?”

 

“You’re going to guide,” Mairead replied calmly. “I will merely lend power and focus.”

 

She had never done this before, not even with her mom, and Tara was both nervous and strangely excited. It felt more intimate than a lot of the tandem spell-casting they’d done in the past, and she knew that the answers they received could dictate much of their future. “Okay.”

 

The ritual was familiar by now, and this was one area where the coven had not been able to help her. Scrying took practice, and once you’d mastered the basics, it was a matter of learning how to see.

 

It also took talent, and Tara took pleasure in the fact that in this area, at least, she was very good. Miss Harkness had told her that her sensitivity and intuition were top-notch. Tara figured that meant if she ever wanted to set up shop as a palm reader, she could. She might even be able to make some money at it.

 

The water flowed slowly into the bowl, and she focused in, picturing time as a stream, and the bowl a window into the stream. Whispering the incantation under her breath, Tara put her hands on either side of the bowl, feeling Mairead’s hands settle over hers.

 

For a brief moment, she could see nothing—and then the vision came.

 

Her family was there and gone in the blink of an eye, maybe because she had no fear of them anymore. They would not be able to bully her again, and that was all she needed to know.

 

Tara concentrated on Joyce, and on Buffy. She could see Joyce leaving on an airplane, Dawn with a green light surrounding her, and Joyce in the backyard of her home, wearing a beautiful dress. The picture faded as soon as it appeared, however, and Tara couldn’t tell if it had any meaning at all. Perhaps, as with the first time, it could only be interpreted in light of what had come before and after it.

 

The picture disappeared, then Tara saw Joyce again. The Christmas tree behind her told her what time of the year it was, but nothing gave her any clue as to what year it was. It could be this year, as Christmas was still a month away.

 

This time, when the picture cleared, she could see nothing else.

 

“That wasn’t very helpful,” Tara said ruefully, as she looked up at Mairead.

 

Mairead gave her a sympathetic smile. “We are not always shown what we would most like to see.”

 

“I know,” Tara replied. “What should I do, though? Do I need to tell Buffy what I know?”

 

Mairead raised an eyebrow. “What do you know? Are you sure that Joyce was holding the same infant she was in your vision?”

 

Tara frowned. She couldn’t be absolutely certain, and visions of the future were notoriously unreliable anyway. “What do you think?”

 

Mairead shook her head. “This is your decision. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll support you.”

 

Tara wished that there was a clear-cut answer, but that wasn’t possible, of course. “I’ll sleep on it,” she said finally. “I can decide what to tell Buffy in the morning.”

 

She hoped things would be clearer by then.


	41. Through a Glass Darkly

Spike pursued Buffy with single-minded focus, not wanting to let her face her opponent alone. He leapt the garbage can the vampire had shoved behind him in his haste to get away, and was by her side an instant later.

 

Buffy gave him a quick, grateful look, and their feet pounded the ground in unison. They were as one, as in tune with each other as two people could be, and when Buffy surged ahead, Spike expected it.

 

She executed a flying kick into the vampire’s back, sending him sprawling. He rolled over, scrambling to his feet. “Going so soon?” Buffy asked. “We hadn’t even gotten to know each other yet.”

 

“You want to die that badly, Slayer?” he growled.

 

Buffy snorted. “You wish.” She drove her fist into his stomach, doubling him over. Spike took the opportunity to plunge the stake into his back. “That was too easy.”

 

“If we’re done with patrol, we could head home,” he suggested.

 

She shrugged. “I guess.”

 

“Worried about your mum?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He caught her hand in his, feeling his ring on her finger. It was a mark of how far they’d come that she would even admit her concern to him. “How’s the Bit doing with it all?”

 

Buffy nodded. “I don’t think Dawn understands how serious this is, but that’s probably a good thing. I don’t want her to worry more than she has to.”

 

“Do you know when the test results are coming?”

 

“The doctor said it could be up to three days,” she replied, sighing. “I hate waiting. I just want to know that everything is going to be alright.”

 

Spike was silent. Tara had come to him to confess what she’d seen in the scrying bowl, wanting to know if he thought she should tell Buffy. He’d said that he would do it when the time was right, and now seemed like the time. “Tara talked to me earlier today.”

 

“About what?”

 

“Saw your mum in the gallery the other day with a baby in her arms. One of her regulars brought her daughter in.”

 

He waited for the news to sink in and knew that Buffy understood the significance when her grip on his hand tightened. “Then we don’t know that she’s going to make it.”

 

“We didn’t know before,” Spike said gently. She remained silent, and he added, “Tara and Mairead both looked again, trying to find some answers for you.”

 

“And?”

 

“Nothing conclusive,” he admitted. “Said they saw her in the backyard in a pretty dress, and then at Christmas, but they didn’t know when it was.”

 

Buffy frowned. “She was in our backyard in a dress?”

 

“Yeah? Why?” He looked sharply at her. “Does that ring a bell?”

 

She shook her head. “No, that’s just it. It’s something new.”

 

Spike wasn’t sure what to say—whether to caution her against getting her hopes up, or to encourage her with the idea—but he was interrupted by the sound of a scuffle. He met her eyes, and Buffy shrugged. “One more for the road?”

 

“Guess so,” he said.

 

A big vampire was shoving a young man up against a chain link fence, bending his head to drink. This time, Spike was the one to sprint ahead, wishing he had the Gem with him as he pulled the other vampire away.

 

The big vamp gave a shout of anger and tried to backhand him, but Spike ducked the blow, coming up underneath his swinging arms to get in a shot to the groin. The vampire let out a squeal of pain, and Buffy yanked him backwards by the collar.

 

“You know, Spike, I’m getting a little tired of these interruptions.”

 

“You and me both, luv,” he said. “What do you think we should do about it?”

 

Buffy plunged her stake into the vampire’s back as he began to struggle. “Take care of them as quickly as possible,” she said. “Because I have class tomorrow.”

 

“Hey!” They both turned quickly, trying to pinpoint the source, since the intended victim had immediately bolted. “Are you two looking for the rave?” A security guard was standing there, flashlight in hand. Spike assumed that he hadn’t seen the vampire dust, because he didn’t appear concerned

 

“The rave?” Spike had no idea what he was talking about.

 

Buffy elbowed him in the ribs. “Yeah! The rave. I heard it was here.”

 

The security guard shook his head. “No, I chased a bunch of kids off the other night. You know, if it was up to me, I wouldn’t care, but management has rules.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Buffy replied, waving her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. “We were just talking about heading home anyway, weren’t we, honey?”

 

“Yeah,” Spike agreed, bemused. “It’s getting late.”

 

As they turned to go, the guard called out after them, “Oh, you dropped your ball!”

 

Spike immediately recognized the item that he was holding out. “Thanks,” Buffy said mechanically, taking it from him.

 

“Crazy kids,” the man said with good humor. “Never know what you’ll find around here.”

 

Buffy glanced over her shoulder as they walked away. “Glory’s going to brain suck that man if we don’t stop it.”

 

“How are we gonna stop it?” Spike asked softly. “We could warn him, but you know how much good that’s going to do.”

 

“I know.” She stared down at the glowing sphere. “I was really hoping that we wouldn’t have to do this again, Spike.”

 

“I know.” And Spike knew that there might not be a lot of options for avoiding the problem.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn was certain that there was something going on that no one wanted her to know about. The witches had come over to their house and put up protection spells. Even though they said it was because Buffy was the Slayer, and they were worried about demons and vampires, she didn’t buy it.

 

Willow, Tara and Mairead had been back in Sunnydale for months, and they were just now getting around to it. It didn’t make any sense, not unless there was something serious going on. The only thing that Dawn could think of was her mom being sick, and while that was bad, it didn’t have anything to do with magic.

 

Buffy had been really clear about that.

 

Spike’s voice called up the stairs, “Dinner’s on the table, Bit.”

 

That was the only good thing about Joyce not feeling great; Spike was at their house a lot, and Buffy didn’t even seem to care.

 

“What’s for dinner?” she asked, coming down the stairs. “Please tell me that Buffy didn’t cook.”

 

“Your mum talked me through the recipe,” Spike replied.

 

“Excuse me?” Giles asked from the kitchen. “She talked _you_ through it?”

 

Spike smirked. “Fine. She talked _us_ through it.”

 

Dawn didn’t know how to feel about Giles being there for dinner. Now that she knew he was her mom’s boyfriend, things were weird. She still didn’t think he liked her very much.

 

“Did you wash your hands?” Joyce asked, sitting down in the chair Giles pulled out for her.

 

Dawn shook her head, then went into the kitchen to wash up. Buffy was there, drying her own hands on a towel. “Buffy?” she whispered.

 

“What?” her sister whispered back.

 

“Is it weird for you, too? Giles and Mom, I mean.”

 

“Yeah, it’s a little strange.” Buffy’s expression was wistful. “But a good strange.”

 

Dawn wanted to tell her that was only because Giles was _her_ Watcher, and therefore kind of like _her_ father. She felt like the odd person out.

 

Buffy brushed her hand over Dawn’s hair. “Give it time, Dawnie. It’ll get less weird.”

 

“I guess.” She hesitated. “Is something going on?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Willow and the others were here to put a protection spell on the house,” Dawn pointed out. “I thought something must be going on.”

 

Buffy hesitated. “We can talk about it later, okay?”

 

She wasn’t sure whether to believe Buffy or not; her sister seemed to protect her by keeping her in the dark. “Really?”

 

“Really.” Buffy managed a smile. “Come on. Dinner’s going to get cold.”

 

Dawn couldn’t help but wonder why Buffy sounded so sad when she said that.

 

~~~~~

 

This was the part Giles found difficult. Being a Watcher was what he’d trained for, and although he’d had relationships in the past, being the boyfriend of a woman with children required something different from him. Knowing that Dawn was actually a mystical Key whose blood had the power to open the doors between dimensions didn’t make it any easier.

 

Still, being with Joyce meant making an effort with Dawn, which meant exercising social muscles Giles wasn’t sure he had. How did one interact with a fourteen-year-old who wasn’t one’s Slayer?

 

“You’re leaving?” Dawn asked, her voice rising an octave.

 

Giles felt Joyce take his hand, and he squeezed tightly, knowing how hard this was for her. “Not for long,” Joyce promised. “I want to get a second opinion, though, and there’s a doctor who’s very good at this sort of thing.”

 

“This sort of thing” was, of course, doing brain surgery, and while he knew it was necessary, the very idea scared the hell out of him. Giles kept thinking of Jenny, and what had happened the last time, according to Spike and Buffy. It would have been easier not to fall in love, but it was too late for that.

 

“What about me?” Dawn asked, with the single-minded egocentrism that only a teenager could display.

 

“Spike and I are going to be staying here,” Buffy assured her. “It’s only for a few days, and we’ll go with Mom when they do the surgery.”

 

Dawn’s shoulders hunched miserably. “But what if something happens?”

 

There was a long silence, and Giles began to see how much trouble Buffy’s knowledge of the future could bring her in this situation. Dawn didn’t know about the fact that they’d come back to the past, probably because the monks hadn’t known. They had merely inserted Dawn into the situation as it appeared to be.

 

Giles didn’t know when Buffy was going to tell her little sister what was going on, but he knew she planned on doing so before she found out for herself. At this moment, however, it became even harder to know how to respond.

 

Everyone in the room—except for Dawn—knew what was likely to happen, unless something went differently. Perhaps a second opinion and a different surgeon would be enough, perhaps not. It was impossible to say for sure.

 

“If something happens to me, you’ll be taken care of, Dawn,” Joyce said gently. “But that’s why I’m going to see a different doctor. I don’t want anything bad to happen to me.” She looked at Giles and Spike. “Maybe you two could give us a few minutes alone?”

 

Spike rose from his perch on the arm of Buffy’s chair. “Sure, Joyce. I put a couple of beers in the pantry, Rupert.”

 

“Very good.” Giles followed him outside to the back porch. “I didn’t realize that Joyce and Buffy were going to tell Dawn tonight.”

 

Spike was quiet. “With Glory coming around, we can’t risk Dawn going off on her own, or taking other chances. It’s just not safe.”

 

“Do you think she’ll take the warning seriously?” Giles asked dubiously.

 

Spike raised his bottle, taking a deep draught. “No, I don’t,” he said bluntly. “It’s worth a shot, though, and we remember what happened last time when the Bit was left to find out on her own. It wasn’t pretty.”

 

Giles was sure that it hadn’t been, and he couldn’t fault either of them for telling Dawn the truth now. Still, he selfishly wished that he didn’t have to be present for the fireworks that were sure to follow.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy wasn’t sure about this. She’d known for a while that they would have to tell Dawn the truth before she went searching for it herself. Actually doing it, however, was something else altogether.

 

“What’s going on?” Dawn demanded. “Is somebody dying?”

 

“No one is going to die,” Joyce promised. “But there are things you should know.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“You know how you keep asking me why I’ve been acting weird?” Buffy asked. When Dawn nodded, she said, “It’s because I’m not the same. I came back in time to fix something that went wrong.”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Please. Like I’m going to believe that.”

 

“It’s true.” Joyce’s voice was firm. “Your sister and Spike both came back from the future.”

 

The girl’s eyes grew wide. “Do you know what’s going to happen to Mom, Buffy?”

 

“No, I don’t,” Buffy said as gently as she could. “There’s no guarantee that anything will happen.”

 

“But you know what happened,” Dawn said. “If you really are from the future.”

 

“Dawnie—”

 

“I want to know,” she insisted.

 

Buffy looked to her mom for help. She did _not_ want to tell Dawn that their mother died in the future she knew. “I’m going to do everything I can to get better, Dawn,” Joyce said quietly. “What you need to know is that you’re special.” Buffy had to admit that it was an effective subject change.

 

Dawn frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“You’re the Key,” Buffy said.

 

Her sister stared at her as though she’d gone crazy. “The key to what?”

 

“It’s an energy nexus that can open the doors between dimensions,” Buffy explained. “The Key was in danger from a Hellgod named Glory, so the monks, who guarded the Key, decided to do something to protect it. Glory was planning to use it to destroy the world.”

 

Dawn’s expression grew fearful. “What did they do?”

 

“They made you, Dawnie,” Buffy said gently. “And they sent you to us.”

 

She rose from the couch. “No. You’re lying. I’m not some weird energy thing; I’m real.”

 

“Of course you’re real, sweetie,” Joyce replied. “But you’re very special.”

 

“No!” Dawn whirled to run from the room. “You’re lying!”

 

Spike was suddenly in the doorway, blocking her exit. “It’s gonna be okay, Nibblet.”

 

“You knew?” Dawn asked. “How long have you known?”

 

“I came back with your sister, Bit,” Spike said gently. “I’ve known since the beginning.”

 

Buffy remembered that Spike had been with Dawn the first time she’d found out. Of course, Dawn had cut her arm open last time to see if she bled; it would be nice to prevent her from doing something like that again.

 

“You didn’t tell me?” Dawn demanded.

 

He smiled gently. “You just got here, pet. It hasn’t been that long.”

 

Dawn shook her head, tears beginning to stream down her cheeks. “You’re all crazy. You’re lying. You have to be.”

 

“I wish we were, Dawnie, but we’re not,” Buffy said. “We’ve been waiting for you, though. I wanted you to be here. I want you as my sister. It’s not blood between us, it’s choice, and that’s stronger.”

 

Joyce wrapped her arms around her youngest daughter as Buffy watched. She knew that this was the better way for Dawn to find out, but it still hurt to watch her sister cry. Not for the first time, she hated the monks who had done this, who had complicated everything without regard for the damage they would cause.

 

The monks hadn’t been concerned about what their little trick would do to the girl they’d created; Buffy suspected that they wouldn’t have cared, even if they had known. They had a so-called larger purpose, whereas Buffy had a singular goal, just as she had before.

 

To protect her sister; that was all that mattered.

 

~~~~~

 

Mairead looked up when she saw the young man enter the shop. He looked familiar somehow, although she wasn’t sure where she might have seen him before. Anya smiled at him from her new position behind the counter. “May I help you?”

 

“Are all these magic books?” the young man asked.

 

Anya raised her eyebrows. “They are. Not all of them are for sale, however. Was there something specific that you were looking for?”

 

“No, just looking.”

 

Mairead didn’t like the looks of him. There was something in his face, in his eyes, that spoke of arrogance, and a touch of cruelty. He struck her as a bully, and she generally trusted her instincts. When Tara walked through the door a moment later, shock registering on her face before it was replaced by grim determination, Mairead knew her instincts were right on the mark. “Donny.” There was no hint of a stutter, and she was proud of her girlfriend’s self-control.

 

“Hey, Tara.” He swaggered a bit as he approached her. “It’s good to see you.”

 

Tara simply raised an eyebrow. “I wish I could say the same.”

 

Donny took a step back, as though she’d struck him. “Is that any way to talk to your brother?”

 

“If you’d treated me like a sister, I might apologize,” Tara responded. She walked across the shop, brushing past Donny as though he wasn’t worth her time. “Hi, sweetie.”

 

Mairead knew the kiss was intended to make a point, and to make it very clearly, but she didn’t mind. In fact, it was rather nice to have a girlfriend who would be so clear with her family about where she stood. Her first hadn’t been so open. “It’s good to see you, too.”

 

“Sorry,” Tara whispered against her lips. “I needed—”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Mairead pulled her closer for another kiss, this one even deeper than the first.

 

“Tara!”

 

The voice was sharp with surprise—and disapproval, if Mairead didn’t miss her guess. Tara took her time turning. “Hi, Dad.” This time, there was a slight tremor in her voice, but she held her head high, her shoulders back.

 

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

 

She smiled. “I’m kissing my girlfriend. Dad, this is Mairead.”

 

“Anya, what’s—” Giles came out from the back room, frowning when he saw the two men standing there. “Is there some problem?”

 

“No problem, Mr. Giles,” Tara said firmly. “My dad and my brother were just getting ready to leave.”

 

Her father frowned, his expression forbidding. “We came all this way to see you. I want to have dinner with you tonight.”

 

Mairead could see Tara waver, and she grabbed her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. She didn’t know if her girlfriend wanted to have dinner with her family or not, but she wanted Tara to do what made her happy.

 

“You didn’t come here because you wanted to see me,” Tara replied. “You came because you’d like me to believe that I’m turning into a demon in a few days.”

 

Her father was clearly taken aback by her forthright statement and her open reference to what had probably been a family secret. No wonder that he’d wanted to keep it a secret, because speaking it aloud exposed it for the foolishness that it was.

 

A girl about Tara’s age walked through the front door of the shop, stopping when she saw the scene in front of her. “Tara.”

 

“Cousin Beth.” Tara’s voice was even again. “It’s good to see you.”

 

Beth looked uncomfortable, as though sensing the tension. Mairead had a feeling that all the women of the family were very good at reading moods; Tara certainly was.

 

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” Spike came sauntering into the shop from the backroom, and Mairead remembered the trap door leading to the sewers that was located in the storeroom. “Seems like we’ve got a family reunion going on.”

 

“Spike, this is my father, my brother, Donny, and my cousin, Beth,” Tara said. “But I think you probably knew that.”

 

Spike smiled, his expression just a little bit evil. “Yeah, can’t say I’m happy to see them again. They still think you’re a demon?”

 

Mairead knew that Spike was perfectly aware of what Tara’s family believed, and she wondered what he was up to. “Yes,” Tara said simply.

 

Spike’s face shifted, his eyes glinting golden. “This is what a demon looks like,” he said, his voice slightly distorted by his fangs. He turned to Tara and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think you quite fit the bill.”

 

Anya spoke up from behind the cash register. “Well, that would depend. What kind of demon is she supposed to be?”

 

Tara’s family was still staring, wide-eyed, at the vampire. “What?” her father asked, clearly distracted.

 

“What kind of demon is she supposed to be?” Anya repeated patiently. “Because there are all kinds. Some are evil, but there are quite a few who are productive members of society.”

 

Tara’s father tore his eyes away from Spike’s demonic visage. “Tara, this is ridiculous. We’re your family. We know what’s best for you.”

 

“No, you don’t,” she replied. “I know what’s best for me. I’m sorry, Dad, but I think you should leave now. I’m not going home with you. I know who and what I am now, and you can’t take that away from me.”

 

Donny took a step forward. “You don’t talk to our father like that.” He raised his hand, as though to strike her, and Spike moved to intercept the blow.

 

Tara didn’t hesitate. She raised her free hand, and Donny was propelled backward until he collided with the steps, sprawling on his back with a yowl. “You don’t want me to show you what else I’m capable of,” she stated simply.

 

Her father stared at her as though she really had become a demon, no matter what Spike had just shown him. “You’re no daughter of mine.”

 

She smiled, her shoulders thrown back and her head held high. “No. I’m my mother’s daughter.”

 

Mairead had never been so proud in her life.


	42. Glory

Buffy pouted. “Darn. I missed that?”

 

Spike grinned. “It was something to see.”

 

“You could demonstrate what you did again, Tara,” Xander suggested. “Maybe on Spike?”

 

Tara blushed. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

 

“It was a very big deal,” Mairead disagreed. “You were marvelous.”

 

Her blush deepened. “Not really.”

 

“When are we having the party?” Willow broke in.

 

“What party?” Xander asked.

 

“Tara’s birthday party,” Buffy replied. “I think at the Bronze, if that’s okay. Oz is playing that night, right?”

 

“We’re playing,” Oz confirmed. “Should be fun.”

 

Tara’s expression indicated that she was torn between gratitude and embarrassment, so Spike deemed it time to change the subject before she was permanently red. “When’s your mum leaving for Rochester, Buffy?”

 

Buffy’s smile faltered. “The day after tomorrow.” She looked at Tara. “I hope you don’t mind if Dawn comes to the party. I know it’s more of an adult thing, but with Mom out of town—”

 

Tara shook her head. “I’d love to have Dawnie there, Buffy, and you should let us know if you need any help. We’d be happy to hang out with her for an evening or two.”

 

“Same here,” Willow piped up. “I mean, I know it’s the same house, but maybe different nights.” She glanced at Oz. “We could probably take her to a movie or something.”

 

“We’d be happy to,” Oz agreed.

 

“Ditto,” Xander added. “Just let us know what you need, Buff.”

 

Buffy looked a little overwhelmed. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. We don’t know how long Mom’s going to be gone for.” She glanced at Giles. “If necessary, Giles will come back, and I’ll head out.”

 

Spike thought that everyone maintained their composure quite well with that little bombshell. “Are they going to do the surgery right away?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “The doctors said that they couldn’t be sure what they were looking at until Mom gets there and they can examine her in person.”

 

“Hey, she’ll be fine, Buffy,” Xander said. “She’s your mom, right? She’s tough.”

 

Buffy managed a smile at that. “Yeah. She is.” She glanced up at the clock. “We’d probably better get out of here. The wicked never rest.”

 

“I think that it’s no rest for the wicked,” Mairead said with a smile.

 

The Slayer shrugged. “Yeah, but it sounds better my way. See you all tomorrow.”

 

Spike waved over his shoulder and followed Buffy out the door, his mind preoccupied with what was coming. The wicked might not be able to rest, but neither were they.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn knew she was being a brat. She knew that she should go downstairs and hang out with her mom before she had to leave for the Mayo Clinic. She knew that by staying in her room, refusing to talk to anybody, she was acting like a little kid.

 

She just couldn’t seem to help herself.

 

Staring at the blank pages of her journal, Dawn wondered if she liked to write because she liked it, or because she was made that way. Maybe that’s the only reason that her mom and Buffy and Spike liked her—because they had to, because that’s the way the monks’ spell worked.

 

Dawn still hadn’t believed them at first. In the end, Buffy had called Tara and Mairead, and they had reluctantly cast a spell that caused all recent magic to be revealed. Dawn had been able to see the protections they’d put around the house, and she’d also watched her own image flickering in and out of pictures, and her skin had appeared to glow green for about an hour.

 

Since no one else had turned green, Dawn thought it was pretty good evidence.

 

There was a soft knock on the door, and Joyce stuck her head inside. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

 

Dawn hated that her mom was being so nice when she wasn’t. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 

Joyce hesitated, then entered the room, sitting down next to her on the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

 

“Not really.” That much was the truth. Dawn _didn’t_ want to talk about it, any of it.

 

She felt her mom’s hand stroking her hair. “I know this is a lot to think about.”

 

“I just want it to be like it was!” Dawn burst out. “It’s not fair.”

 

“I know.”

 

Dawn turned imploring eyes on her mom. “Can’t I go with you?”

 

“You have school,” Joyce reminded her. “And I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone.”

 

“What if you don’t come back?” She voiced her biggest fear. Her mom was silent, and Dawn could see that she was afraid, too. “What if something happens to you?”

 

“You’re going to have to be very brave,” Joyce said, pulling her in close. “I could promise you that I’ll be fine, but I don’t know that. Even if something happens to me, though, Buffy will take care of you.”

 

Dawn swallowed hard. She didn’t feel very brave, but she didn’t want her mom to worry about her while she was away. “I’ll try.”

 

“Good.” Joyce pulled back. “How about some ice cream?”

 

Dawn nodded, thinking that if the monks were so good at magic, they could have fixed her mom, too.

 

~~~~~

 

“Thanks, Rupert,” Spike said, sliding the ring on his finger.

 

Giles frowned. “Is this a good idea?”

 

“Haven’t a sodding clue,” he admitted. “But Buffy wants to see if the ring does any good against Glory, and if we can get there soon enough, we might be able to get a few more answers out of that monk.”

 

“I can certainly understand why you would want to do that,” Giles acknowledged. “I just don’t know that Buffy should reveal her identity to Glory. If Glory never knows that she’s the Slayer, she won’t know where to look for Dawn.”

 

Spike grimaced. “That’s where I come in.”

 

Giles’ eyes widened as he realized what their plan was. “You’re the decoy? Spike—she could kill you.”

 

“Not with the ring on,” he replied. “I’ll distract her, make her think I’m some super-charged vampire, and Buffy grabs the monk and gets some answers. We might even save some lives while we’re at it.”

 

Giles shook his head. “You do realize that this could make you a target?”

 

“Better me than Buffy,” Spike replied. “Better get going. We’ll see you when you and Joyce get back.”

 

“Call when you’re done for the evening.” Giles held open his door. “I’d like to know that you both made it out safely.”

 

He nodded. “Right.”

 

Giles closed the door behind the vampire, shaking his head. He understood why they were choosing to be proactive with Glory, but he couldn’t help but worry, particularly because he wasn’t going to be there.

 

When Joyce had made the decision to travel to the Mayo Clinic, he’d offered to go with her, even though he knew it was going to put a strain on everyone else. Anya had willingly agreed to watch the Magic Box while he was gone, with Mairead to help her, so that was covered. Buffy had Spike to watch her back, as well as a small coven to offer assistance.

 

Giles knew he’d made the right decision, but he hated to leave his Slayer at this critical time. He did not want to let Joyce travel by herself, though, and there was no one else to go.

 

The phone rang, and he picked up the receiver, smiling when he heard Joyce’s voice on the other end. “I was just thinking of you.”

 

“How are you?”

 

“Good.” He couldn’t tell her that he was worried, or what he was worried about. He didn’t think that Buffy had informed her mother of what their plans for the evening were. “You?”

 

“I’m pretty crappy,” she confessed.

 

His grip on the phone tightened. “Do you want me to come over?”

 

“Would you?” she asked. “I’m sorry to ask, but—”

 

“Say no more. I’ll be there in a few moments.” He put the phone down and thought about what he was likely in for. He thought it all too likely that he would end up with his heart broken once again.

 

~~~~~

 

“You ready for this?” Spike inquired.

 

Buffy nodded. “I think so.”

 

“We don’t have to,” he said.

 

“Yes, we do.” She met his eyes, her expression somber. “We need more information about Dawn.”

 

He couldn’t argue with her logic, even though he knew the evening could end up being rather painful. “Let’s go, then.”

 

The warehouse soon loomed in front of them, and Spike glanced over at her. “See you in a bit, luv.”

 

Buffy nodded, then headed around the back. Spike had opted for the route that Buffy had taken the first time, although he used every ounce of stealth he possessed. Slipping inside the warehouse, he couldn’t see Glory, but he spotted the monk immediately. The man was tied to a chair and had obviously been tortured. Spike could hear his labored breathing and erratic heartbeat, and he knew that the man didn’t have much time to live.

 

Another heartbeat caught Spike’s attention, and he looked over to see a security guard chained to a pipe. He could smell the man’s fear from where he stood, but he looked to be in one piece, which was more than could be said for the monk. Spike decided to help the victim most likely to escape first, and went to the guard.

 

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” he whispered.

 

The guard shook his head. “She’s still here. Just leave now.”

 

Spike ignored him, using the added strength the ring gave him to snap the chains. “Get going. I’ll take care of Glory.”

 

“How do you know my name?” The voice was unmistakable, and her hand gripped his shoulder, propelling him backwards. “I don’t remember meeting you, and it’s very rude to not introduce yourself, especially when you steal their snacks.”

 

Spike’s face shifted. “Yeah, well, he’s my snack now.”

 

Her mouth made a moue of disgust. “Vampires. Ugh.”

 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “There are quite a few who find us fascinating.”

 

“Mortal meat sacks,” Glory scoffed. “They have no idea what it means to be truly immortal.”

 

“And you do?” Spike circled slowly, trying to draw her attention away from both victims. The security guard wasted no time in scrambling away, and Spike was grateful that they’d managed to save one life, at least. It would now be up to Buffy to grab the monk while he provided a distraction.

 

“ _I_ am a god,” Glory replied, tossing her head. “You _should_ be worshipping me.”

 

Spike smirked. “I only worship one woman, and it would never be a trashy fashion victim with a lopsided arse.”

 

That did the trick. She lost her temper, just like she had the last time he’d called her names. Spike had no trouble taking her punishment; the ring prevented her from doing any real harm. What the Gem of Amara did not do was to make it possible for _him_ to hurt _her_. He could push her back, keep her on the move, but not much more than that.

 

So much for the theory that the ring would allow him to defeat her. Spike supposed it was time for plan B, if he could get Buffy to agree.

 

“Hey!” Glory yelled, spinning around. “Hands off my holy man!”

 

Glory had noticed Buffy’s attempts to free the monk, and Spike couldn’t allow the Hellgod to engage her. He tackled her from behind, causing her to do a face plant into the concrete. Buffy gave him a grateful look as she half-led, half-carried the monk out of the warehouse.

 

Spike’s bid for her attention had worked a little too well, however, and he realized just how angry she was when she stood slowly and stared him down. “You’re pretty strong for a vampire,” she said. “I wonder why that is.”

 

He shrugged with feigned nonchalance, knowing that he needed to end this little encounter as soon as possible. As he looked around, it appeared as though the warehouse was ready to come down around their ears. Their battle had put quite a few cracks in the supporting walls. “What can I say? I eat my Wheaties. You’re looking a little worn around the edges, though. Not getting enough beauty rest? I imagine you need more than most.”

 

“Why you little—” Glory never finished her insult, choosing instead an inarticulate cry of rage. Spike ducked the punch she threw, which caused her fist to crash through a support post. He hit her with a roundhouse kick to the head, his steel-toed boots managing to send her flying into a second post. When she came at him again, he didn’t hesitate, driving his head into her midsection, and sending her crashing into the wall.

 

The collision fazed her long enough for him to run across the warehouse. He threw his arm up in front of his face just before he crashed through the window. Although he would have liked to find Buffy immediately, he didn’t dare risk leading Glory to her. She would have to deal with the monk on her own, and he wished her better luck than he’d had.

 

~~~~~

 

“You’re going to be okay,” Buffy promised, supporting the monk as best she could while leading him away from the warehouse. Spike would be safe enough with the ring—she hoped—giving her time to get the answers she needed.

 

Unfortunately, Glory hadn’t needed to brain-suck the security guard this time. She’d caught a couple of kids who’d thought that vandalizing a warehouse was a good idea. They’d been wandering around outside when she’d arrived around the back, and she’d been forced to waste precious time to lead them away from the area.

 

That meant two more victims she hadn’t been able to save; how many more lives would Glory destroy before they stopped her?

 

“I must stop,” he gasped out.

 

Buffy shook her head grimly. “We just need to get you to the hospital. You’re going to be fine.”

 

“My journey is over, I think.”

 

His words brought a forbidding sense of déjà vu, and Buffy lowered him to the ground knowing that he was right. He wasn’t going to make it. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time,” she said. “I should have known better.”

 

“It is not your fault,” he gasped. “The Dagon Sphere, the Key—”

 

“I know,” she hushed him. “I know all about Glory. When you messed with our memories, you didn’t know the whole truth. But I need to know now—can Dawn’s blood only be used once? Or will she always be the Key?”

 

“She is human, and innocent,” he ground out. “You must protect her.”

 

“I know that!” Buffy hissed, suddenly angry with him, with all of them, once again. She wouldn’t give Dawn up for anything in the world, but it still galled her that they had played with her memories, with Dawn’s, with everyone’s. “She’s my sister. I’d die for her; technically, I already have. What I want to know is for the future. Will she always be the Key?”

 

“No energy may be wasted, only transformed,” the monk said. “I do not know what will happen, only that she is safe with you.”

 

He was fading quickly, and Buffy knew that if she had any more questions, she would have to ask them quick. “I know Dawn has to be protected, but is there a way to kill Glory? Before she tries to open the portal?”

 

“She is a god,” he gasped. “There is no way.”

 

He slumped in her arms, the life fading from his eyes. Buffy was reminded of the deputy mayor, and the message he’d tried to pass on. She stood, wiping her bloody hands on her jeans and turning towards Spike’s apartment with weary steps. At least this time she’d come away without any injuries, and thanks to the ring, Spike was likely to be in the same position.

 

Still, what she knew—what they knew—only led to more questions. If Glory couldn’t be killed, how were they to prevent everything from happening all over again?

 

~~~~~

 

Tara could honestly say that this was the best birthday ever. She’d never had the opportunity for a party like this when she was a child, or even a young adult, and while the last couple of years had brought more friends into her circle, this was new.

 

This was family.

 

She glanced over at Buffy; the other girl had been quiet all evening, and Spike had been drinking steadily, although he showed no signs of intoxication. Making her way through the crowd, Tara put a hand on her arm. “Is everything okay?”

 

“It’s fine,” she replied, attempting a smile.

 

Tara frowned. “Buffy, if there’s anything I can do…”

 

“I know.” She took an audible breath. “Don’t worry about it. You should just enjoy your party.”

 

Tara might have tried again, but Mairead approached them. “Do you want to dance?”

 

“Yes.” She put her drink down and followed her girlfriend to the dance floor. “I’m not a very good dancer.”

 

“Nor am I,” Mairead confessed. “I just wanted an excuse to touch you.” Tara stepped closer, holding her close. They swayed together in time to the beat. “Are you okay?” Mairead asked after a moment.

 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tara asked with some surprise.

 

“It’s difficult to break ties with your family.”

 

She shook her head. “I broke ties with them the day I left. I knew that I could never go back.”

 

“Would they have harmed you?”

 

“Not in that way,” Tara assured her. “But they would have made me smaller than I am.”

 

“Hurt enough.”

 

“Exactly.” Tara smiled. “I’ve outgrown them. Maybe someday they’ll understand that, but I doubt it.”

 

Either way, Tara didn’t think it mattered. She knew her own strength now, and that was something her family wouldn’t have been able to understand or accept.


	43. A Pressing Matter

Joyce tightened her grip on Giles’ hand. “That soon?”

 

“I believe it would be for the best,” Dr. Pollock replied. “Your tumor is growing quickly, and as it does so, your neurological symptoms will increase.”

 

“What sort of symptoms?” Giles asked.

 

“Dementia, hallucinations, mood swings, and so forth,” the doctor replied. “It’s different for every patient, but that’s what you’re likely to see.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “I realize that it must feel as though you’re being rushed into a decision, but you are very lucky. The tumor is small, and surgery is likely to succeed.”

 

“What about complications?” Joyce asked. “What are the risks of an aneurysm or stroke, or something similar?”

 

Dr. Pollock nodded. “Any time you operate on the brain, side effects are a possibility, of course. I have every confidence that we can avoid that by doing the surgery soon.”

 

Joyce closed her eyes, feeling as though she was being hurtled down a road that she couldn’t see the end of, with no control over her own life. “How long will I have to stay here?” she asked. “I have two daughters in California.”

 

“The recovery period for the surgery changes from patient to patient,” he replied. “It could be as little as a week, or much longer. I’d like you to stay here in Rochester until the staples come out, though, and that’s usually a week to 10 days.”

 

Joyce knew that she had little choice in the matter. She’d chosen this doctor because he was the best in the field; she would do whatever it took to stay alive. “Okay.”

 

There was paperwork to fill out, and Joyce sent Giles out to call Buffy and let her know. “I want to see her and Dawn before the surgery.”

 

“I’ll let her know,” he promised.

 

Joyce signed the consent forms, knowing that she was making the only possible choice under the circumstances.

 

~~~~~

 

“Come on, Spike. Just on half. You won’t be able to taste them.”

 

“No. You put those things on half, and the whole bloody pizza tastes like anchovies.”

 

“You don’t even have to eat the pizza!” Dawn protested. “I think I should get to pick what goes on it.” She turned to Buffy. “Tell him, Buffy.”

 

Buffy shrugged. “Sorry, Dawnie, but I have to agree with Spike. No anchovies.”

 

Dawn pouted. “It’s not fair. I never get anchovies.”

 

Spike smirked. “When you’re the one paying for the pizza, you can have whatever you like on it. ‘Til then, I get veto power.”

 

Dawn opened her mouth to launch into another argument, but was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. The whole room fell silent, and Buffy’s stomach clenched; she knew her mom was supposed to call to let them know what had been decided after a day of tests.

 

She picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

 

“Buffy.” Giles’ voice on the other end was serious, the tone he normally saved for apocalypses, and other world-ending events. “The doctor has scheduled the surgery for the day after tomorrow.”

 

“The day after tomorrow?” Buffy squeaked. “Why that soon?”

 

“The doctor believes that the tumor is growing quickly enough to warrant immediate action,” Giles responded. “Joyce wants to see both of you before the surgery.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, I’ll let Dawn and Spike know. We can pack tonight and leave tomorrow. How long is Mom going to be in the hospital?”

 

“The doctor wasn’t able to tell us,” Giles said. “It depends on how well the surgery goes.”

 

Buffy nodded, although she knew he couldn’t see it. “I’ll talk to Spike and maybe call Graham. They can look after things here while we’re gone. Dawn probably shouldn’t miss that much school, but I can always send her home while I stay.”

 

“Whatever you decide to do,” Giles replied. “Call and let us know when you’ll be arriving.”

 

Buffy agreed and said farewell. She half-expected Spike to argue with her about staying in Sunnydale. “Spike—”

 

“Here,” he said, holding his hand out for the phone. “I’ll call for the pizza and arrange the flight. You two talk.”

 

She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

 

“What else am I here for?” he asked, kissing her briefly.

 

Dawn was staring at her with wide eyes. “Mom’s having surgery?”

 

“Yeah. I guess the doctor wants to do it as soon as possible,” Buffy replied. “I’ll call the school tomorrow and let them know.”

 

Dawn’s chin took on a stubborn set. “I want to stay with Mom.”

 

“We’ll see,” Buffy replied noncommittally. “It’s going to depend on how long she’s staying.”

 

She frowned. “No fair. You get to stay as long as you want, and you have school, too.”

 

“And I’ll have to make it up,” Buffy said. “I’m an adult, though, and so I get to decide how much I can miss. You don’t.”

 

“But—”

 

“Dawn, you really want to make your mum worry about how much school you’re missing?” Spike asked.

 

She subsided immediately. “No.”

 

“Good. Pizza’s on the way. I got a small with anchovies for you.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.” He looked at Buffy. “I’ll get the flights arranged.”

 

Buffy turned to Dawn. “Are you going to be okay?”

 

Dawn just nodded, slumping back on the couch.

 

Buffy sighed. She had no idea how to talk to her sister, then or now. Spike always seemed to know how to handle Dawn, and how to get her to do exactly what he wanted her to do. Spike and her mom. Buffy had no idea how she’d managed before, without either of them.

 

~~~~~

 

The only reason Spike hadn’t protested about sending Buffy and Dawn off without him was because he knew there wasn’t another choice. The only reason Buffy could leave without worrying about Glory or what she was planning was because he was there. He didn’t even mind the thought of working with Graham; the soldier was all right in his book.

 

“Thank you,” Buffy whispered, her breath tickling his ear.

 

He gripped the hand resting on his stomach. “For what?”

 

“For taking care of the flights, for not arguing with me about it, for everything. I know how hard this is for you, letting me go without you.”

 

Spike turned to face her. “It’s harder for you than for me, luv. I know that.”

 

“It’s just that it feels like you keep doing stuff like this for me, and I’m never doing anything for you.”

 

He chuckled, a rueful sound. As much as she loved him—and he believed that she did—Buffy didn’t yet fully understand just what he was willing to do for her. “All I wanted was you, Buffy. Your love, and if I couldn’t have that, your friendship. I’ve got all I need.”

 

She moved quickly, rolling them both so that she was straddling his waist. “I love you.”

 

“I know you do.”

 

“I don’t think I could live without you,” Buffy said.

 

Spike frowned. “Buffy—”

 

“No, I couldn’t. Don’t say that I’d be fine.”

 

“You’re strong.”

 

“I’ve lost too many people I love.” Her hands traced his face with an urgency he couldn’t deny. “It’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back.”

 

His eyes traced her face. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I knew if we tried to take the First Evil head on, I’d lose you.”

 

Spike couldn’t deny that their choice to come back in time seemed to have worked out better than they might have hoped, but he had a hard time understanding what she meant. “I don’t—”

 

“If there was a choice, between you or me, what would you have done?”

 

“It would have been me,” he said without hesitation.

 

Buffy nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

 

“You would have been fine, Buffy. You’d have managed without me.”

 

“That was before I knew how good it could be.”

 

Spike swallowed. “What’s brought this on, Buffy? You know I’d do anything for you. You’ve known for a while now.”

 

“I know, it’s just—”

 

She didn’t finish her sentence, but Spike could see the naked fear in her eyes, and he knew that she was afraid of losing her mother, of losing Dawn—of any number of possibilities. Anything could happen, and while that might be a good thing in some ways, the future held more unknowns than they could possibly guard against.

 

He answered her in the only way he knew how—with hands and tongue and lips. They joined with the painful knowledge that it was likely to be the last time for a while. There was a desperation in their lovemaking that couldn’t be ignored, a sense that they were both living on borrowed time.

 

The worst of it was that Spike knew that they would both sacrifice themselves—or the other—if it came down to that. If they had to choose between saving the world and staying alive, or saving each other, they would each do the right thing. He knew that they were both capable of making the hard decision as never before.

 

It should have been a comfort, but it wasn’t.

 

So, he took what he could get now, and he would continue to do so until their time was up.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow shifted uneasily when she caught sight of Spike across the crowded room. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Spike, or that she didn’t like him. It was just that they hadn’t spent a lot of time together outside of Buffy’s presence. Now that Buffy was going to be gone for an extended period of time, Willow thought it her duty as the best friend to demonstrate her solidarity.

 

Well, that and Buffy had asked her to check up on him.

 

“Hey!” Willow knew it was more nervous squeak than greeting, but she thought she deserved points for trying. “How’s it going?”

 

Spike gave her a confused smile. “All right. You said you wanted to meet here.”

 

The Bronze seemed like the most neutral of sites to choose from. Besides, Willow wanted to know if he wanted help patrolling. Buffy had made her promise that she would look after him. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to patrol together tonight.”

 

“Uh, sure.” A bemused expression crossed his face. “If you’d like.”

 

“Great!” Willow drew a deep breath. “Let’s go, if you’re ready.”

 

“Does your boy know?” he asked, rising from his seat and finishing his drink with one gulp.

 

“I told him where we were going,” she replied. “He’d probably have come along, but tonight’s a full moon, and he’s a little worried about going wolfie if he’s out fighting the forces of darkness. He’s been doing really well, but we both decided that it wasn’t a good idea to risk it. What if he bit me? Or you? I don’t know what would happen to a vampire who got bitten by a werewolf, but the witch-werewolf combo wouldn’t be pretty.”

 

Willow knew she was rambling, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself until Spike raised a hand in a clear signal to halt. “What’s wrong, Red?” His eyes narrowed. “Did the Slayer put you up to this?”

 

She thought about prevarication, but knew there was no point. She still sucked at lying. “Not exactly. She told me to make sure you were okay, and I thought that the best way to do that would be to go out on patrol with you.”

 

Spike shook his head. “I don’t need looking after,” he objected.

 

Willow raised her eyebrows, once again on solid ground. “Excuse me? You’ve got a gang of vampires after you because you’ve got something they want, Glory wants your hide because you managed to kick her ass and not get hurt doing it, and you’re worried about Buffy and Joyce.”

 

Spike blinked. “Right. Good point.”

 

“So are we patrolling?”

 

“Guess so.” He glanced over at her. “How’s Tara doing?”

 

“She’s good,” Willow replied. “Really good, I think, now that her family’s been and gone.”

 

He nodded. “Good to hear.”

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

 

“You can ask.”

 

“Were you close to her the last time?”

 

“No.” Spike shrugged his shoulders, looking uncomfortable. “We weren’t anything last time.”

 

She frowned. “You’ve just always seemed really interested in her.”

 

“She was one of the good ones,” Spike said quietly. “She—she was decent to me, is all.”

 

Willow had seen the future, and she knew exactly what he meant. “And we weren’t.”

 

“You just wanted what was best for her.”

 

She didn’t have to ask who he meant, although she was amazed that he could be so magnanimous after everything that had happened, both in the past only he and Buffy had lived and in the one she knew. “Maybe. Or maybe we were being stupid.”

 

He smirked. “Never said you weren’t being stupid.”

 

Willow mock-glared at him and gave him a shove. “Thanks.”

 

“You were the one who brought it up.”

 

Willow shrugged good-naturedly. “Yeah, I was.”

 

Spike stopped, his eyes narrowing. “We got company.”

 

“Who?”

 

“H’lo, Graham.”

 

The soldier emerged from the shadows with a stealth Willow couldn’t help but admire. “Spike, Willow. Any success tonight?”

 

“We just started,” Willow replied.

 

“What about you?” Spike asked. “Have you seen anything out of the ordinary?”

 

“Isn’t that a nightly occurrence?” Graham asked with a wry smile. “But, no. We haven’t seen anything to write home about.” Willow was about to ask who “we” referred to, but two more soldiers appeared. “You’ll have to come over sometime and meet the rest of the guys.”

 

“We’ll do that,” Spike promised. “Soon as Buffy gets back in town.”

 

“Did she go on vacation?” he asked innocently.

 

“Her mum’s sick, going through treatment at a clinic out east.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He glanced over his shoulder at the others. “We’d better get going. We’ve still got some ground to cover.”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Spike froze. “Hang on.”

 

Graham held up a hand, and all three held their rifles at the ready, standing in a pose of watchful readiness. “Demon at five o’clock.”

 

Spike whirled, moving past the knot of soldiers to confront the demon attacking them from behind. Willow heard several muffled shots and watched two demons collapse on the ground. She turned back in time to see Spike breaking the neck of the third. “Thanks,” he said as he let the body drop. “Wouldn’t want to face three of these buggers with just the two of us.”

 

“All part of the service,” Graham replied. “Do you know what they are?”

 

“Lei-Ach demons,” Spike said. “Big with the marrow-sucking. Also, the same kind Glory sent after Buffy last time.”

 

Willow gave him a concerned look. “She didn’t send them after Buffy _this_ time.”

 

“No, she didn’t,” he agreed. “Bloody hell.”

 

“What’s the problem?” Graham asked.

 

“Problem?” Spike repeated, still staring at the dead demon. “No problem. Other than the fact I’ve got an angry Hellgod on my tail.”

 

“Buffy’s not going to like this,” Willow pointed out.

 

Spike gave her a hard look. “Buffy’s not to know about this, not until things with her mum are settled. I won’t have her worrying about something she can’t do anything about.”

 

“She’s not going to be happy about that.”

 

“She’ll live.” Spike sighed. “We’ll give you a call when Buffy’s back in town,” he promised.

 

Graham nodded. “Let me know if you need any help while she’s gone.”

 

“Will do.”

 

They parted ways, and Willow remained thoughtfully silent. She didn’t like the idea of keeping a secret from Buffy, but she could see where Spike was coming from. “You going to tell her?”

 

She shook her head. “No, not unless she asks me directly.”

 

“I don’t want to lie to her,” Spike said. “Wouldn’t think of it, but with Joyce’s surgery tomorrow, there’s no sense in giving her one more thing to fret about.”

 

“I know.” Willow gave him a reassuring smile. “I think you’re right, which is why I’m not going to say anything. Just don’t blame me when she gets really angry.”

 

Spike grinned ruefully. “What else is new?”

 

~~~~~

 

Giles was the one to pick them up from the airport; the doctors wanted Joyce to remain in the hospital until the surgery, probably because it was scheduled for really early in the morning. Buffy sat in the passenger seat of the car, grateful that Giles was the one driving, grateful that he was there.

 

It was still weird to think of them together—Giles and her mom. There was definitely a squick factor there, especially after having overheard Joyce’s thoughts on having sex with him. She still didn’t know what a stevedore was, mostly because she didn’t want to.

 

There were some things it was better _not_ to know.

 

It was probably weirder for Dawn, though. Buffy knew that her sister and her Watcher had never been close. After her death, and before her resurrection, Giles had left Dawn in the care of her friends. She wondered if he would do the same this time.

 

If it all happened again, if her mom died, and she died, Buffy knew that the one person she could count on was Spike. She wished she could be as certain about everyone else.

 

“Where are we staying?” Dawn asked from the backseat.

 

“A hotel close to the hospital,” Giles responded. “I booked a room for the two of you.”

 

“What about you?” Buffy asked.

 

“We already had a room.”

 

Buffy kept her mouth shut, hearing the truth in Giles’ words. Weird or not, they were a couple, and it really wasn’t any of her business. Besides, if it made her mom happy, Buffy didn’t care. Dawn wasn’t quite as sanguine about the idea, though.

 

“You _shared_ a room?”

 

“Dawn,” Buffy said, using her best big sister voice. “Don’t start.”

 

Giles gave her a grateful look. “Your mother and I are very fond of each other, Dawn,” he said carefully.

 

Dawn’s face screwed up in disgust. “But—”

 

“Dawn!” Buffy frowned. “Drop it.”

 

She slumped back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, but she subsided.

 

Buffy had a feeling that she wasn’t all that upset about the idea of Joyce and Giles together; her sister was worried and scared, and therefore was acting like a brat.

 

She could relate to that, although fear tended to turn her into a bitch.

 

The remainder of the drive was made in silence, and Giles led the way to Joyce’s room. He allowed Dawn to enter the room immediately, but his hand on Buffy’s arm held her back. “Just a moment.”

 

“What’s up, Giles?”

 

“Are you—alright with this?”

 

“You and Mom?” Buffy asked. When he nodded, she shrugged. “It’s weird, but… I just want her to be happy. I think it would be easier if I hadn’t heard what she thought of you.”

 

If she wasn’t mistaken, Giles turned slightly red. “Yes, well, I know that Dawn isn’t pleased, and we’ve talked about it. We likely would have waited to tell both of you if I—Ripper—hadn’t—”

 

She waved off the explanation. “It’s better this way. If—if something does happen—” She broke off. “It’s better.”

 

His gaze was compassionate. “The doctors here are very, very good, Buffy.”

 

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sure they are.”

 

Entering the room, seeing her mom holding Dawn tightly, was harder than Buffy had ever thought it would be. It brought back a thousand memories of seeing her mom in the hospital, of watching her get sicker, of seeing her body—

 

Giles’ hand squeezed her shoulder, and Buffy glanced up at him gratefully. She had to believe that this time would be different.

 

It already was.


	44. Relief

Anya looked at the items on the counter with some trepidation. She knew exactly what a Kuhl’s amulet and a Sobekian bloodstone were used for in conjunction, and that meant that the person standing across the counter from her was probably very powerful, and very evil.

 

She didn’t want to make the sale, but she didn’t want to die either.

 

“I don’t think I can—”

 

Mairead suddenly appeared at her side. “Anya, weren’t you just telling me that you were trying to get rid of the Sobekian bloodstone?”

 

Anya blinked. “Uh, I don’t—”

 

“In fact, it’s on sale,” Mairead continued, treading hard on her foot. “It’s very kind of you to take it off our hands.”

 

Anya watched the woman preen a bit, and she began to see what Mairead was up to. “Very lucky for us,” she agreed. “I can give you a real deal on it.”

 

“Let me wrap it up for you,” Mairead added, whisking both items off the counter and dropping them on the tissue paper behind the counter.

 

“Thank you,” the woman said. “It’s so hard to find good service these days.”

 

“Isn’t it, though?” Anya asked. “No one is polite anymore.”

 

She let out a theatrical sigh. “That’s so true. And no one recognizes my true worth.”

 

“There you are,” Mairead said, putting the neatly wrapped package on the counter. “I hope you enjoy!”

 

“And here’s your receipt,” Anya added, handing the slip of paper to her. “Have a nice day!” They remained silent as Glory swept out of the shop. “Please tell me that you switched the stone out.”

 

Mairead opened her hand to reveal the Sobekian bloodstone. “Of course. There was no way I was going to let her leave the shop. She shouldn’t even have the amulet, but it was much easier to replace the stone.”

 

“What did you change it with?”

 

“An onyx I put a glamour on,” Mairead replied. “It’s lucky for both of us that I’m good at that sort of thing.” She looked over at Anya. “We’d best tell someone that a Hellgod is trying to do some serious dark magic.”

 

Anya nodded. “Spike will want to know. I can’t leave the shop, though.”

 

“I’ll go, then. Will he be at Buffy’s house?”

 

“Yes, although he’ll probably be sleeping.”

 

“That’s all right.” Mairead looked grim. “I think he’ll want to know, particularly since we’ll likely need to confront Glory tonight when she attempts the spell.”

 

Anya couldn’t disagree, but she hoped they left her and Xander out of it.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike picked up on the first ring. “H’lo?”

 

“She made it.” He could hear the relief in Buffy’s voice. “The doctor said that they got all of the tumor, and that he doesn’t think she needs radiation or chemo. The surgery went really well.”

 

He closed his eyes. “I’m glad.”

 

“I’m going to stay for another day or two, but then I’ll be coming home.”

 

“What about your mum?”

 

“The doctors aren’t sure how long she’ll need to be in the hospital. It depends. Giles is going to stay, though.” There was a pause, and Spike could hear her talking to someone else. “He wants to know how the shop is doing.”

 

“Far as I know, everything is fine,” Spike assured her. “Sounds like Mairead and Anya make a good team.”

 

“Has there been any trouble with Glory?”

 

“No, no trouble,” Spike said, glancing at Mairead, who was sitting on the couch.

 

There was a pause. “What happened, Spike?”

 

“Nothing happened, luv. We’re all safe and sound.”

 

“There’s something that you aren’t telling me.”

 

“I don’t want you worried about me or the others. You concentrate on your mum.”

 

“Spike—”

 

He sighed, knowing that he didn’t have a choice, not when she used that tone of voice. “Glory sent the Lei-Ach demons again, and she was in the shop today to buy materials for that snake demon.”

 

“Shit.” Spike couldn’t have put it better himself. “When is she casting the spell?”

 

“Tonight, I’m assuming,” he replied. “At least, that’s probably when she’ll _try_. Mairead said she switched the stones when Glory wasn’t looking. She won’t be able to finish the spell, and since Dawn isn’t in town, it wouldn’t have mattered even if she had. The damn thing wouldn’t have been able to find the Key.”

 

“Don’t even think about going after her tonight, Spike,” Buffy warned him.

 

“Buffy—”

 

“I’m serious,” she insisted. “She sent the demons after you, didn’t she?”

 

“Well—”

 

“That’s what I thought. Do _not_ make yourself more of a target than you already are.” Buffy sighed. “Look, when I get back into town, we can talk more about how we’re going to deal with this, but there’s no point in risking your skin tonight.”

 

Spike sighed, knowing when he was beaten. Buffy was right; Glory wouldn’t be able to raise the demon, and so it probably wouldn’t make sense to confront her. “I promise I won’t go looking for her.”

 

“Is anyone there with you?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike frowned. “Yeah, Mairead. Why?”

 

“Pass the phone over.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I want someone watching your back, Spike. If you do go out on patrol, I want someone with you.”

 

“We knew that I’d likely become a target, pet,” he reminded her gently. “I’m gonna be fine.”

 

She sighed. “I know that, but I want to talk to Mairead anyway.”

 

Spike rolled his eyes, glad that Buffy couldn’t see him, and gave the phone to the witch. He had no trouble overhearing their conversation, of course, which mostly consisted of Buffy asking for details of exactly what had happened in the Magic Box with Glory, and instructions for not leaving him alone.

 

He was torn between irritation and amusement; while he could take care of himself, Spike felt warmed that she cared so much.

 

“I promise he won’t be left to patrol by himself,” Mairead promised for the third time. “We’ll go as a group or not at all, Buffy.”

 

She finally handed the phone back. “She wants to talk to you again.”

 

“Slayer,” he growled. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

 

“I’m worried enough about Mom,” she shot back. “I don’t need to worry about you, too.”

 

That silenced him. “Fine. I guess we’ll talk when you get back then.”

 

“I love you.” There was fear in her voice, and Spike knew why. She didn’t want to hurt him, or their relationship, but she loved him too much to risk him.

 

He sighed. “I love you, too. Don’t worry about me. I won’t risk it.”

 

“Thank you.” She paused. “I should go.”

 

“See you soon,” he promised, then heard the dial tone.

 

Mairead gave him a sympathetic smile when he looked at her. “She cares for you very deeply.”

 

“I know.” Spike shook his head. “’Course, if I were to try to forbid her from doing her job, she’d be singing a different tune.”

 

“No, she wouldn’t, not if it was a risk she could avoid.” Mairead stood. “Come on, then.”

 

Spike frowned. “Huh?”

 

“You can come over to our place for dinner.” She glanced out the window. “The sun’s low enough, and Tara’s cooking, so you know it’ll be good. We’ve got room for one more.”

 

Spike hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

 

She just smiled. “Well, you’re family, aren’t you? Family is always welcome.”

 

Spike swallowed. “Be happy to join you.”

 

It looked like his evening wouldn’t be quite so lonely after all.

 

~~~~~

 

“So, we’re definitely not going after Glory tonight?” Willow asked.

 

Mairead took a sip of her beer. “Definitely not. Buffy was quite clear about that, and she can do no harm.”

 

“Thanks to you,” Anya spoke up. “There was no way I was going to let her leave the shop with both of those items, but I don’t think I could have stopped her.”

 

“There wasn’t a way,” Spike assured her. “And if you had tried, she would have swatted you like a bug.”

 

Xander grimaced, taking a drink of his own alcoholic beverage. Technically, he wasn’t old enough to drink, but Spike and Mairead had bought it, and he wasn’t one to turn it down. “Good thing there was no swatting. Don’t you think Glory might put two and two together, though? If she figures out what happened, she could come back to the Magic Box.”

 

Tara’s eyes widened in alarm. “Could she trace the glamour back to you, sweetie?”

 

Mairead shook her head firmly. “No chance of that. Besides, if the spell is anything like I think it is, the amulet and stone won’t be there when she’s done, whether it works or not. She’ll still be putting quite a bit of energy into it.”

 

“And you’re sure it won’t work?” Spike pressed.

 

Mairead gave him a stern look. “Of course, I’m sure, and you aren’t going to see for yourself. There’s no point in risking it, and I promised Buffy.”

 

“Wait, what’s this?” Xander frowned. “When did you talk to Buffy?”

 

“Earlier this evening,” Spike replied. “Remember? Told you she’d called about Joyce.”

 

“Yeah, but you didn’t say anything about making promises. What promises?”

 

Mairead spoke before he could, and Xander was amused to see Spike squirm a bit. “I promised that Spike wouldn’t patrol by himself while she’s gone. Glory’s made him a target since he confronted her.”

 

“Which is a good thing,” Spike broke in. “Because she doesn’t know anything about Buffy yet. The longer that’s true, the better off we’ll be. She won’t even think that the Slayer has her Key.”

 

“But will she think that _you_ have the Key?” Willow asked.

 

“That could be unpleasant,” Oz murmured.

 

Spike shrugged. “All she knows about me is that I’m a vampire, and I insulted her a lot. Don’t think she’ll look much further than that.”

 

“Well, let’s hope not,” Anya said. “Because she could rip you limb from limb without breaking a sweat from what I’ve heard. You can’t win against a Hellgod.”

 

Xander managed to smile, in spite of that rather depressing statement. “We did before, right?”

 

Spike nodded, although he didn’t look convinced. “Yeah, we did, and we know a hell of a lot more this time.”

 

Xander just hoped that’s all they needed.

 

~~~~~

 

Joyce’s head felt fuzzy, her thoughts disconnected. At first she couldn’t remember where she was, or why she was there, although the mattress beneath her didn’t feel like her own. She realized that her hand was being held, and she slowly opened her eyes to see Buffy sitting next to her bed.

 

“Hey,” Buffy murmured. “How are you feeling?”

 

“A little fuzzy.” She frowned, still trying to remember. Clearly, she was in the hospital; the smell alone would have given it away. “What—” She stopped, the memories flooding her mind. She’d had surgery to remove a brain tumor. “How did everything go?”

 

“Really well,” Buffy replied with a teary smile. “The doctor said that he was able to get it all.”

 

Joyce felt a sense of relief, although she knew that she wasn’t out of the woods yet. There was still the possibility of complications. From what Buffy had told her, however, everything was so different this time that perhaps they had warded off the potential problems.

 

“Where’s your sister?” Joyce asked, trying to swallow and finding her mouth very dry.

 

“Here.” Buffy grabbed a cup from the table. “The nurse gave me ice chips for when you woke up. Just let it melt. And Dawn’s with Giles. They went to get something to eat. I think he’s trying to bond with her or something.”

 

“Dear Rupert,” Joyce said, although she hadn’t meant for it to be out loud.

 

Buffy’s eyebrows went up. “I didn’t know you guys were _that_ close.”

 

“He’s a good man.” A smile formed. “And he’s a very thoughtful lover.”

 

Her daughter held up a hand. “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that. The doctor said you were getting the good stuff.”

 

“Good stuff?” Joyce asked.

 

“Drugs. That’s probably the only reason you don’t have a killer headache right about now.” Buffy glanced up as Giles and Dawn’s voices filtered down the hallway. “Please don’t mention sex in front of Dawn. You’ll scar her for life.”

 

Joyce smiled. She had no intention of mentioning any such thing in front of her youngest daughter, but she did enjoy making Buffy freak out.

 

“Mom!” Dawn was clearly overjoyed to see her awake. “Are you okay? The doctor said we could visit all together because you were doing so well. He even had you moved to a private room early.”

 

“Dawn,” Buffy said in warning. “Go easy.”

 

“I’m fine, Buffy,” Joyce assured her, knowing how much her youngest needed reassurance that she was okay. “Come here, Dawnie.”

 

Joyce held her, meeting Giles’ eyes over Dawn’s head. She could read the relief in his eyes, and for one brief, beautiful moment, she believed that everything would be all right.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn still didn’t think it was fair that Giles got to stay with her mom and do who knew what in the hotel room, while she and Buffy had to go home. Joyce had said it was because they both had school to attend, and she had to stay until the staples were out.

 

It might be a logical reason, but it didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t fair.

 

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for Spike and Buffy to get done trying to suck each other’s face off. Dawn even checked her nonexistent watch and cleared her throat loudly, but they were firmly attached. Spike might not have to breathe, but what about Buffy?

 

“They’re probably taking our baggage to the lost and found by now,” Dawn announced. “You know, since we haven’t picked it up.”

 

“Feel free to grab the bags, Nibblet,” Spike said with a smirk. “You know what they look like.”

 

“I’m not the one with superpowers,” she shot back.

 

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Ignore her, Spike. She was brat during the whole flight.”

 

“I was not!” Dawn said. “Just because I was bored—”

 

“Giles offered to buy you a book or game,” Buffy reminded her. “Remember?”

 

“I couldn’t find one that I liked,” she said.

 

Spike held up a hand. “Enough. Dawn, I know you’re unhappy about leaving your mum behind, but just think. Another few nights with the two of us, and no bedtime. There might even be movies your mum wouldn’t let you watch and food she wouldn’t let you eat. Assuming you behave yourself.”

 

Dawn knew it was a bribe, but she didn’t care. Spike was implying that he was going to be around, and he was right. Once her mom got home, and things returned to normal, there would also be a return of rules. It was a lot easier to get around Spike.

 

Sort of. Dawn had a feeling that he only let her persuade him when he was good and ready to be persuaded.

 

“Okay.” She didn’t want to give in too easily; it set a bad precedent.

 

“But only if you get caught up on your homework,” Buffy added.

 

Dawn glared at her. “You have homework to catch up on, too.”

 

“And I will,” Buffy said. “Willow’s been getting my assignments for me, so you know what I’ll be doing during the day.”

 

Dawn sighed, knowing when she was beat. Besides, her mom had already talked to her about catching up with classes, and what was in store for her if her grades fell this semester. Not that there were threats, exactly. It was more the knowledge that Joyce would be really disappointed and would blame herself if Dawn’s grades slipped.

 

“So, uh, how did that thing go?” Buffy asked.

 

Dawn rolled her eyes, yanking her bag off the carousel. Buffy was always trying to talk about Slayer stuff in front of her without giving any of the details. She was _so_ old enough.

 

“‘That thing’ didn’t actually happen, because you threatened dire things if I went looking for ‘that thing,’ remember?”

 

“I just wanted to make sure,” Buffy said, giving him a quick kiss, then grabbing her own bag. “Home, William.”

 

“As my lady wishes.”

 

Dawn trailed behind them disconsolately. They were just so _together_ it made her feel like a third wheel all the time.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike was grateful that the others were so willing to spend time with Dawn. Buffy might not want him patrolling on his own, but he felt the same way, which meant they were in need of a steady supply of babysitters. Not that Dawn would be happy to know that she couldn’t be left alone, but at least she knew why.

 

Just because she understood the reason didn’t mean she accepted it, however.

 

“But I’m old enough to stay by myself!” Dawn protested.

 

Buffy looked at him for help, but he shrugged. He’d run interference enough for one day; it was beginning to wear him down. “Yes, you are old enough,” Buffy said. “But it’s not safe, so be grateful that there’s someone who’s going to stay with you, because otherwise I would have to lock you in the basement.”

 

Dawn’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

 

The doorbell rang, and Spike let Xander and Anya inside. “Thanks for coming, you two. And by the way, great timing.”

 

“We aim to serve,” Xander replied. “Hey, Dawnster! You ready to get wild?”

 

Spike saw the look that Buffy gave Dawn, a clear warning to behave herself. “Have fun, you guys!” Buffy said. “Let’s go, Spike.”

 

He followed her out the door cheerfully enough, grateful to have a few moments without anyone else around. It had been too long, that was for sure. “You okay?” he asked.

 

“If the definition of ‘fine’ includes wanting to kill your sister,” Buffy replied.

 

“Think it probably does.” Spike grinned at her. “She’s just worried about your mum and unhappy about all the disruption going on. It wasn’t that long ago that she learned she was the Key, luv.”

 

Buffy grimaced. “I know. I’m trying not to get too upset, but come on, Spike. She’s being a brat.”

 

“She’s a teenage hormone bomb,” Spike said. “It’s part of her job description.”

 

Buffy tucked her hand through his arm. “I just wish Mom was home.”

 

“I know you do, luv.”

 

“Do you think she’s going to be okay?”

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“Are you just saying that?”

 

“Do you want to know the truth?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Then, yes, I do think she’ll be fine, and I’m not just saying that.” Spike pulled her close. “And now we’ve got company.”

 

Spike released the Slayer to sprint towards the vampire he’d sensed approaching. “Spike!” Buffy squealed from behind him. “Who’s the Slayer here?”

 

“Depends on who gets there first.”

 

Buffy put on a burst of speed that moved her past him to confront the vampire. He watched as she fought, enjoying her inventiveness and grace; it had been too long since they had been on a patrol together.

 

Actually, it had only been a week, but it felt like a lifetime.

 

She had just dusted the vampire when she called, “Spike! Look out!”

 

The second vampire came out of nowhere from behind him, and Spike pulled out his stake. Buffy cried out behind him, and he craned his neck, catching sight of her fighting off a third vampire.

 

The moment’s distraction was all his opponent needed to turn the stake around and plunge it into his chest.

 

Spike heard himself cry out, and Buffy’s shout, and then he knew nothing more.


	45. Close Calls

Buffy didn’t think she’d ever been quite so scared in her life. At least Spike went down like a ton of bricks, rather than disintegrating on the spot. She quickly staked the vampire she’d been fighting off, then went after the one that had hurt her fiancé.

 

Anger and fear gave her strength and speed beyond what she normally possessed, and she was by Spike’s side in seconds. “Oh, God, Spike. Please be okay.”

 

It was very nearly a prayer, and Buffy stared at the stake, unable to decide whether she should pull it out or not. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “Okay, think. How do I do this?”

 

The stake was clearly close to his heart; she knew that much from her experience, but she’d never had to pull one out before. Of course, if she didn’t pull it out and tried to carry him, it could shift and end up staking him.

 

“Shit.” Buffy grasped the stake firmly, and yanked it out as quickly and as smoothly as she could.

 

Spike moaned. “Buffy?”

 

“Yeah. You’re gonna be okay,” she promised, keeping her hand over the wound. “Do you know the combination to Giles’ safe?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because once you put the ring on, you’ll feel a hell of a lot better.”

 

Spike cracked an eyelid open. “Point. Yeah, he gave it to me just in case.”

 

“I think this qualifies.” She rose to her feet, then pulled Spike up after her, keeping a firm grip around his waist and slinging one of his arms over her shoulders. “You know, last time I was the one getting staked with my own weapon.”

 

“I remember,” Spike grunted. “Glad it was me.”

 

Buffy snorted. “Maybe you are, but I think I lost ten years of my life, watching you come that close to death.”

 

Spike winced. “Yeah, well, I’m still glad it was me.”

 

They limped along in silence towards Giles’ apartment. “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

 

“That a new thing for you?”

 

“Shut up.” Buffy said it without any heat, knowing that Spike tended to get more sarcastic when he was hurt. “Maybe you should go back to wearing the ring full time.”

 

His brow furrowed. “Thought we agreed it was too dangerous.”

 

“It might be too dangerous for you to go without,” Buffy pointed out reasonably. “If Glory’s made you a target, that ring could be the only thing standing between you and a dusty end.”

 

Spike was quiet.

 

“I can’t lose you,” Buffy said. “I told you that.”

 

“I know.” He sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

 

She knew that was really all she could ask of him. In the end, any decision about the ring had to be his.

 

The remainder of the trip to Giles’ place was made in silence; Buffy knew that Spike was concentrating on staying conscious and upright. “Can you pick the lock, or do I need to break in?” she asked once they reached their destination.

 

“If you can keep me on my feet, think I can manage it.”

 

Buffy kept a tight hold on the vampire while he worked on picking the lock. When the door swung open, she maneuvered him inside and onto the couch, then went to the safe under Giles’ desk. “What’s the combination?”

 

“48-18-26-4-33.”

 

She spun the dial as carefully as possible, wanting to get it right the first time; Buffy didn’t want Spike to suffer any longer than he had to. The safe was full of papers and old books, but she didn’t see the ring anywhere. “Do you know what he put it in?”

 

“Dunno that he put it in anything,” Spike replied. “I didn’t see him stash it.”

 

“Crap.” Buffy rummaged around, finally feeling something hard and cold in the corner. She pulled the ring out and dashed over to her fiancé, sliding the ring on his finger.

 

The wound in his chest closed almost instantly, and he let out a sigh of relief. “It’s gonna be bloody hard to give this up again.”

 

“I know. I think you should keep it. You’ve got more to worry about from Glory than a bunch of vampires.”

 

“Until those vampires manage to get their hands on this,” Spike replied, holding up the hand wearing the ring. “Then you’ll have one more problem.”

 

“I would rather have that problem than be worrying about you, or worse.”

 

Buffy knew she’d won when he curled his fingers into a fist. “Right.”

 

“I love you.”

 

“I know.”

 

~~~~~

 

“There. I think that does it.”

 

Tara looked over at her girlfriend with gratitude. “I’m sure that Joyce will appreciate this.”

 

“She’ll eat well at least,” Mairead replied.

 

Tara looked around the freshly cleaned kitchen. The two of them had spent most of the day at the Summers’ residence. She’d decided that she could miss her classes that day, and she and Mairead had taken the time to clean the house and fill the fridge with food. Spike had been a willing conspirator, giving them money for groceries and keeping Buffy away. Willow had had a test, so she hadn’t been able to participate.

 

“They should be here any minute now,” Tara said. “Do you think it’s okay?”

 

“I think you’ll get a bonus out of it.” Mairead winked to let Tara know she wasn’t serious. “And I know she’ll appreciate it, sweetie.”

 

Whatever Tara might have said was interrupted by the opening of the front door. “Are you alright, Mom?”

 

“My legs work perfectly well, Buffy,” Joyce said, sounding a little impatient. “I told you; I feel fine.”

 

“I know, but you might be doing that stiff upper lip thing.”

 

“I think I’d know if she were,” Giles replied. “I’m British. It’s our thing.”

 

“See?” Joyce asked. “I have plenty of people looking after me.”

 

“Come on, Mom.” That would be Dawn, and Tara knew the girl couldn’t wait to see what they’d been conspiring to do.

 

Joyce walked into the freshly cleaned kitchen to see Tara and Mairead, and her eyes went wide. “What—”

 

“It was Tara’s idea,” Buffy broke in, quick to share the glory. “She wanted to make sure you didn’t have to lift a finger for a while.”

 

Dawn piped up. “I helped make some of the stuff.” When Buffy glared at her, she added defensively, “I helped stir the spaghetti sauce.”

 

Joyce appeared to be alarmingly close to tears, and she moved to hug both Tara and Mairead in turn. “That was too sweet of you. You really shouldn’t have.”

 

“We were happy to do it,” Tara insisted. “That way you can concentrate on healing.”

 

Joyce smiled, although it was a little watery. “Still, it was very nice.”

 

Spike came into the kitchen a few moments later. “Put the suitcases upstairs, Joyce,” he announced. “You need anything else?”

 

“I think we could all use a cup of tea,” Giles said. “Why don’t you sit down?”

 

The words were innocuous enough, but his expression spoke volumes. It was clear to Tara that Giles’ relationship with Joyce had progressed quite a bit in the two weeks they’d been gone. She supposed that it only made sense. They had quite a bit in common, and going through an experience like that together was bound to either bring them closer or drive them apart. She wondered how Buffy and Dawn would deal with it.

 

“I’ll get the tea,” Spike said. “Why don’t you girls sit down and fill them in on how the gallery and the shop are doing?”

 

“There are cookies in the freezer,” Tara said on her way out of the kitchen. She took a seat on the floor next to her girlfriend while Joyce, Dawn, and Giles sat on the couch. Buffy sat on the chair, asking, “So, are you done with the doctor?”

 

“Not quite,” Joyce admitted. “I’ll have to go back in a month for a check-up, and I’ll have frequent visits after that, but the doctor was pleased with my progress.” She looked at Tara. “How has the gallery been?”

 

“Your substitute has been really great,” Tara replied. Joyce had hired a woman fresh out of school, who had been more than willing to fill in until she started graduate school in the spring. “It’ll be good to have you back, though.”

 

Joyce smiled. “The doctor hasn’t cleared me for work yet, but it’s only a matter of time, I’m sure.”

 

“How have you and Anya been getting on?” Giles asked Mairead, his arm around Joyce’s shoulders.

 

Tara could see the expression on Dawn’s face as she watched her mom and Giles. She was clearly not sold on the idea of Joyce being in a relationship with him, although Tara couldn’t blame her; she had a feeling that the teen wouldn’t be happy about Joyce dating _anyone_.

 

Mairead shrugged. “Oh, fine. Once I assured her that I had no designs on her job, nor any desire to give orders, we got along swimmingly.”

 

Giles chuckled. “I’m assuming she’s at the shop today.”

 

“We didn’t want to overwhelm Mrs. Summers,” Mairead said with a nod at Joyce.

 

“Call me Joyce,” she said. “And I doubt I’d be overwhelmed.”

 

“You shouldn’t wear yourself out,” Giles chided, just as Spike came into the room with a tea tray.

 

Tara noticed that there were only four cups on the tray, and she smiled, knowing a hint when she saw one. “We should get going. We’ve got a few errands to run.”

 

“I do, too,” Spike said. “I’ll drop you ladies off wherever you need to go.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Spike, do you really think that’s a good idea?”

 

“I’ll be fine,” he said with a warning look.

 

She did not look appeased, but acquiesced. “Be careful.”

 

They said their goodbyes, then walked out with him. “What was Buffy so concerned about?” Mairead asked.

 

Spike shrugged. “What isn’t she worried over? We’ve got problems with Glory, and problems with various vamps around town, wanting the ring. Hard to fend off both at once.”

 

“That’s why you went back to wearing the ring,” Tara observed. “Because of Glory.”

 

He shrugged. “Yeah. Hard to argue with the Slayer when she gets worried.”

 

“If there’s anything we can do,” Tara began.

 

Spike gave her a grateful look. “Thanks, pet. Dunno what that might be, but I’ll let you know.”

 

As he walked away, Tara couldn’t help but think that he was between a rock and a hard place with nowhere to go.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles was beginning to wonder when Joyce was going to insist that he leave. Now that their relationship was out in the open, he supposed it didn’t matter quite so much if he stayed the night. He thought she might be getting tired of his company after two weeks of him being constantly by her side, however.

 

“Would you check on Dawn for me?” Joyce asked quietly. “I know I should, but—”

 

“Stay,” he said quietly. “It’s been a long day for you.” Joyce was doing quite well, but she still tired easily, and he didn’t mind. “I should probably be going home soon.”

 

“Of course,” Joyce said. “You haven’t even been back to your apartment yet. I’m sorry, I—”

 

“Hush. It’s no trouble. I just thought you might want me to leave.”

 

“Hardly.” She guided his face to hers with a gentle hand, meeting his lips with a sweetness Giles hadn’t quite believed he deserved. “Have I thanked you for staying with me?”

 

He smiled. “Several times.” Giles kissed her again tenderly, knowing that eventually he’d be able to give free rein to his passion. They were still moving slowly by necessity, but some of the comments she’d let drop lately told him that going slow wouldn’t last much longer. “I’ll check on Dawn, then come back to say goodnight.”

 

Giles knocked on Dawn’s door tentatively. He knew that they were still feeling one another out, unsure of what their relationship would look like. While he had no trouble knowing how to be Buffy’s Watcher, or Joyce’s boyfriend, Giles had no idea how to define himself in relation to Dawn.

 

“Come in.”

 

“Your mother wanted me to check on you,” Giles said, poking his head in. He realized that he’d never been in her bedroom before, and the only time he’d been inside Buffy’s was when she’d been infected with the demon blood. It felt decidedly odd.

 

Dawn shrugged, not looking up from her book. “I’m okay.”

 

“What are you reading?” He felt as though he ought to make some sort of effort, poor as it might be.

 

She glanced up. “ _Jane Eyre_. Spike said I’d like it.”

 

He took a step inside her room. “And do you?”

 

“It’s okay,” Dawn said. “She’s really emotional all the time.”

 

“I believe that has much to do with Charlotte Brontë, the author. She had quite a sad life.”

 

Dawn sat up. “Really?”

 

It was the first conversation they’d had that was just between the two of them, Giles realized. “Yes. The school described in the first part of the book was modeled on one she was sent to as a girl.”

 

She made a face. “That’s really awful.”

 

“There were many schools that were,” Giles replied.

 

Dawn gave him a sharp look. “How come you know all of this stuff?”

 

“I was required to read the book for one of my university courses, and we discussed the author as part of it.” Giles wasn’t sure where the information had come from; he could remember learning it, but he had no idea why it had remained in his memory for all these years.

 

“Cool.”

 

Giles hesitated, then cleared his throat. “I realize that Spike often helps you with your homework, but if you need additional assistance, please let me know.”

 

Dawn gave him a measuring look. “Okay. Can I ask you a question?”

 

“You may.”

 

“Why do you like my mom so much?”

 

Giles wasn’t sure how to answer that. “I don’t know. She’s a wonderful woman, of course, but I suppose it’s because we have quite a bit in common, and the chemistry is right.”

 

“Things in common like Buffy?”

 

Giles thought he knew where she was going with this, and he had no idea how to respond. Dawn was right, of course. He and Joyce had Buffy in common, but not Dawn. He could understand why she would feel left out. “There’s more to it than that,” he replied, knowing that the response was inadequate at best.

 

“It’s okay,” Dawn said. “I know you’re Buffy’s Watcher.”

 

“Yes, well, I thought we might try being friends.” Giles had no idea where those words had come from. After all, he didn’t routinely make friends with fourteen-year-old girls.

 

On the other hand, he’d never dated a woman with a teenage daughter, either.

 

She gave him a long look, as though gauging his sincerity, and then smiled. “Alright.”

 

He returned her smile. “Goodnight, Dawn.”

 

“’Night.”

 

He released a deep breath as he closed her door behind him. Oddly enough, Giles thought that he might have done that right.

 

~~~~~

 

Graham hadn’t thought it would ever happen, but he was getting used to Sunnydale. He was almost fond of the place, in fact.

 

He’d viewed it as his duty to stay in town while the rest of his team went home. Although he didn’t kid himself into thinking that he could do something in an emergency, he could at least get help and document the process.

 

The army brass were beginning to realize that a small team like his couldn’t do much more, but they still seemed to find some value in keeping personnel in Sunnydale—probably because they knew it was a hotbed of demonic activity. It was cheaper to leave a few men there to observe and leave the hard work to the Slayer without actually acknowledging her existence than it would be to keep a full-scale operation in town.

 

He glanced up from the book he was reading when the knock on the door came and went to answer it. “Buffy. What’s up?”

 

“Can I come in?” she asked.

 

Graham stepped aside to allow her entrance. “Sure. What’s up?”

 

“I’m worried about Spike,” she said without preamble.

 

Graham frowned. “He seems pretty capable to me.”

 

“He is,” Buffy said quickly, sitting down on the couch and wrapping her arms around herself. “He’s really capable. It’s just that we had this plan where Spike would play moving target so that Glory wouldn’t figure out about me being the Slayer.”

 

“And now he’s the target?”

 

“Pretty much. I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Have you talked to him about this?”

 

“He doesn’t want me to worry.” She gave him a strained smile. “I just want him alive on our wedding day.”

 

Graham sat down next to her. “What do you want me to do?”

 

Buffy hesitated. “Could you just—I don’t know, watch out for him?”

 

His lips quirked into a half smile. “You mean if I just happen to run into him while I’m out, I could act like we’re best friends.”

 

“Pretty much.” She sighed. “I know it’s not much of a solution, but I’d feel better.”

 

“I’ll do it. I’ll let the other guys know to do the same, too.”

 

“Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “That’s not the only reason I came over, though. Mom’s having Thanksgiving this year, and I thought you might want to come, if you’re not going anywhere.”

 

“I’m not,” Graham replied. “That would be nice.”

 

Buffy smiled. “It should be quite the crowd, but I think it’ll be pretty quiet. We’re not expecting any trouble.”

 

“Anything coming up that I should know about?” he asked. Although he hadn’t quite accepted that they had been to the future, he’d decided to act as though they had. It was clear that Buffy had information that he didn’t have access to, and he wasn’t above using it.

 

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It’s hard to say, though. A lot has changed since last time.”

 

Graham nodded. “What time should I be there for dinner?”

 

“About three?” she said. “That’s when we’re eating.”

 

Graham walked her to the door, putting a hand on her shoulder as she was about to leave. “Buffy—if you need anything, let me know. You or Spike.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

She was gone the next minute, but Graham didn’t think he’d mistaken the grief in her eyes, and he wondered where it had come from.

 

~~~~~

“Oh, crap!” 

Xander had been waiting for that sound. Anya had promised to bring the rolls to Thanksgiving dinner, and although last year she’d simply bought them from the store, this year she’d decided to impress everybody and make them from scratch. 

“Is everything okay?” he called from the couch. He’d offered to help earlier, but she’d told him in no uncertain terms to get out of her kitchen. 

He kind of liked the fact that she was calling it “her” kitchen, even though she hadn’t completely moved in yet. 

“The rolls didn’t rise,” she said, turning to look at him. “They look like little lumps. What happened?” 

“I have no idea,” Xander said quickly, wanting to escape blame. “I’ve never made bread in my life.” 

Anya frowned at the clock. “What am I going to do? I don’t have time to make more before we leave.” 

“We’ll stop at the store on our way over,” Xander soothed. “No one is going to know the difference.” 

“I wanted to make them myself!” Anya protested. “Mairead and Tara are making their contributions, and so is Willow.” 

Xander knew that she had been feeling slightly inadequate lately. Mairead had pretty much given her the run of the shop, but Giles was less willing to take orders.

It made sense, of course; Giles was the boss, while Mairead was just temporary. That didn’t make Anya feel any better now that she’d been in charge, though. 

He sighed. “There really isn’t much we can do, An. We can either stop by the store, or we can go without rolls, and I don’t think that’s going to satisfy.” 

She pouted—very prettily. Xander still wasn’t quite immune to that expression, but he hoped that came with time. “I could run to the store and get the rolls that you have to bake,” he suggested, not sure she would accept that compromise. “It wouldn’t take that long.” 

“I guess.” Anya was clearly unhappy with the situation, but Xander didn’t think there was more he could do. “Do you think anyone will notice?”

He shrugged. “If they don’t, I won’t say anything. What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

When she agreed, he breathed a sigh of relief and left before she could change her mind, then made a mental note to pick up flowers while he was at the store. He had a feeling that she would appreciate that, and when Anya was happy, so was he.

Even though Xander thought they should wait a while, he was beginning to understand the appeal of marriage. The idea of spending the rest of his life with someone wasn’t quite so scary these days.


	46. Target Practice

Spike knew that something was up. The last few times he’d been out on patrol, he’d been inexplicably joined by a soldier, and sometimes two or three. What was even stranger was that Buffy didn’t seem to mind. In the past, when they’d run into the soldiers, they’d said hello and then goodbye almost immediately.

 

During the last few weeks, however, Graham or one of the others would nearly always show up, and then stick close. It was decidedly odd, and Spike was certain that Buffy was behind it.

 

When they bid goodnight and a merry Christmas to Graham on patrol one night, Spike was ready to say something. “Alright, what’s going on, Buffy?”

 

“What are you talking about?” she asked innocently. He could tell from her tone of voice that she was hiding something, though.

 

He raised an eyebrow to show her that he wasn’t fooled. “I’m talking about the fact that I can’t step out my door without one of the soldiers being there. I might be paranoid, but they’ve been pretty friendly.”

 

“I thought you and Graham were friends,” Buffy said, still trying to sound as though she didn’t know what he was talking about.

 

Spike snorted. “Please, luv. Give me some credit.”

 

She sighed. “Fine. I asked him to keep a lookout for you. I want to keep you safe.”

 

He reminded himself that she’d had the best of intentions, and that the soldiers hanging about hadn’t done any harm. “And you don’t think you should have mentioned this to me?”

 

“You would have been angry.”

 

“Angrier than I am right now?”

 

She looked like a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar; Spike thought it was adorable. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t notice.”

 

That was his Slayer—the Queen of Denial. She gave ostriches a bad name. In this case, however, he couldn’t exactly blame her, especially since he probably would have done the same thing in her shoes. “I’m not angry, pet. I just wish you’d let me know.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know how to do this, Spike.”

 

“How to do what?”

 

“How to be with you, and keep Glory off our trail, and all of the rest of it. The knights are going to be showing up soon, although we probably won’t have to worry about the Council this time, and Glory is still an issue—”

 

Spike stopped her lips with a kiss, knowing by now that it was the simplest maneuver. As he deepened their embrace, he felt the approach of a number of vampires, and he knew that they were in trouble.

 

Not wanting to give away the fact that he knew they were being watched, Spike broke off the kiss only to trail kisses down her neck, pausing to whisper in her ear, “We’re not alone.”

 

“I know.”

 

He felt the tension in her body and knew that she was ready for a fight. Her hands gripped his shoulders in a brief warning and then they broke apart from each other with a suddenness that startled their attackers.

 

The moment of surprise was all they needed to press their advantage and avoid being overwhelmed. Buffy staked two in short order, and went after a third. Spike had his hands full with another four, and he noticed that the Slayer’s opponent seemed more interested in keeping her busy than in killing her.

 

One of the vampires managed to grab his right arm, keeping it immobile, and Spike knew that if he didn’t break free soon, things were going to get very ugly. Suddenly, the vampire hanging onto him dusted, and he could just make out the crossbow bolt that had struck it in the heart.

 

Spike dusted another, and the other two dusted one after another. His mysterious benefactor was revealed a moment later when Oz and Willow stepped out of the shadows.

 

“Good thing we heard the commotion,” Willow said as Buffy staked the last vamp.

 

Spike shrugged. “I had it taken care of.”

 

Willow appeared skeptical, as did Oz, although his expression didn’t change much. “Sure you did, sweetie,” Buffy said. “You know, we may want to start patrolling in larger groups if this is going to be a regular occurrence.”

 

“Or you could let me go by myself so no one else was in danger,” Spike suggested, not thinking for a moment that she’d let him get away with it.

 

He wasn’t disappointed. “Over my dead body,” Buffy announced.

 

“We could start patrolling in larger groups,” Willow pointed out. “In fact, it’s probably a good idea, since it would help us fight as a team. We might need the practice.”

 

Buffy nodded. “We probably will. Good thinking, Willow.”

 

“I can even work out a rotation,” she offered, sounding a little more enthusiastic than Spike would have thought anyone ever would when talking about patrolling. “With class schedules and stuff, and maybe it would be a good idea for you and Spike to have a break sometimes.”

 

Spike liked that idea; they hadn’t had a night off since their trip to New York, and that had been quite a while ago. “Sounds good, Red.”

 

“Do you want us to walk you home?” Buffy offered.

 

Oz raised his eyebrows. “Why don’t you let us walk _you_ home?” he suggested. “That might be safer.”

 

Unfortunately, he was probably right. Sunnydale wasn’t safe for either the Slayer or her tame vampire these days, and Spike knew it.

 

~~~~~

 

“Mom? Is everything okay?”

 

Joyce looked up and smiled, but Dawn didn’t find the expression very reassuring. She’d seemed sad a lot lately, but she didn’t understand why. “I’m fine, sweetie.”

 

“No, you’re not,” Dawn said. “You’re worried.”

 

“I’m not worried.”

 

“But you’re not okay.” Dawn leaped to the first conclusion that came to her mind. “Is Giles being stupid?”

 

“Rupert is not being stupid,” Joyce said quickly. “It has nothing to do with him.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

Joyce leaned back in her chair. She’d been in the kitchen, working on bills and paperwork when Dawn had come downstairs for a drink. Now that her mom was a lot better, Buffy was spending most of her nights with Spike. Dawn would never admit it, but she kind of missed having her sister around.

 

Although she missed Spike more.

 

“Do you miss your father?” Joyce asked.

 

Dawn sat down at the kitchen table, surprised at the question. Her dad was one of those things they never talked about, maybe because it hurt too much. She thought it might hurt Buffy more than her, though; Buffy had always been closer to their father, while she’d always been closer to their mom.

 

“Not really,” she finally admitted. “I can’t really even remember when he was around, and I think Buffy—” Dawn stopped, not wanting to say that she thought Buffy remembered the times when their parents weren’t fighting better than she did.

 

Of course, she remembered crying for a week after their dad had finally left because it had hurt, and it meant that everything was changing, and it was scary. Now, though, it didn’t seem like such a big deal, because their lives didn’t really have room for him.

 

If anything, Joyce looked both relieved and more upset; Dawn hadn’t known you could get those kinds of emotions into one facial expression, all at the same time.

 

“It’s okay, Mom,” she said, wanting to reassure her.

 

Joyce sighed. “No, it’s not, but thank you for saying that.”

 

“Buffy hasn’t asked about him, has she?” Dawn asked, wondering what had brought this up. Really, no one _ever_ mentioned Hank Summers if they could avoid it.

 

Joyce shook her head. “No. I just—I thought he might call for Christmas.”

 

“He always sends presents.” Dawn didn’t need to point out that the previous year he’d sent them both a check inside a nondescript Christmas card that wished them a “Merry Christmas,” with nothing more to personalize it than a “Love, Dad.”

 

Buffy hadn’t said anything about it, although Spike had made a sarcastic comment about nominating him for Father of the Year.

 

Not that Dawn had actually been there; she knew she hadn’t been, but she remembered the scene as though she had.

 

She wasn’t sure what it said for life on the Hellmouth that knowing she hadn’t existed in human form until recently no longer freaked her out.

 

“He did this year, too,” Joyce said, pulling out an envelope from the pile of opened mail and passing it to her.

 

Dawn opened it, somehow unsurprised when she saw the card. It was slightly different than the one she recalled from the previous year, but not by much. He’d even signed it the same way; Dawn supposed they should be grateful that he’d included two checks, instead of one to be split later between them.

 

She didn’t mind the money, but she knew that Buffy would; her sister thought of it as an easy out, a way for him to give gifts without finding out what they liked—or were like—these days.

 

Maybe the monks had done something to make it easier for her to accept that her dad was gone and wasn’t coming back.

 

“It’s okay, Mom,” Dawn said. “It’s his loss, right? And Giles and Spike will be around for Christmas this year, so it’s not a big deal.”

 

It was, of course—a big deal. On the other hand, it was a normal problem to have. Dawn knew half a dozen other kids from school with a parent who’d gone M.I.A. It was one of the few problems in her life that she could tell other kids about and have them understand.

 

She just wanted to fit in, which is why she asked her next question. “Can I go to the Bronze tomorrow with Janice?”

 

“Alone?” Joyce asked.

 

“No, with friends,” Dawn replied patiently. “It’s an all-ages thing. Everybody I know is going, and it’s not a school night.”

 

“I don’t think it’s safe,” her mom replied. “Not unless your sister goes with you.”

 

Dawn didn’t bother to point out that if Buffy came with her, that would defeat the entire purpose of the evening, which was to act like a normal kid for a change. “I just want a normal night,” Dawn pled. “Buffy got to go to the Bronze when she was my age.”

 

“No, Buffy was older,” Joyce said firmly. “And she didn’t have a Hellgod after her, at least that I knew about.”

 

“But—”

 

“No.”

 

It was said in such a way as to let Dawn know that there weren’t any other options. “Fine.” As she stomped upstairs, she couldn’t help but think that life just wasn’t fair. No one else she knew had to deal with a Slayer for a big sister, and not being able to go out because of a Hellgod.

 

Just like no one else she knew had had a mom who was sick. None of it was fair at all.

 

~~~~~

 

“So, what do you want for Christmas?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you leaving this ‘til last minute?”

 

“You haven’t done yours yet,” Buffy said.

 

“Yeah, I did. Got it done a month ago.”

 

Buffy stared at him. “Really?”

 

“Yeah.” He smirked. “The ring came in handy for something.”

 

“You got all your shopping done?”

 

“Your mum, Dawn, Giles, you.” He grinned at her. “I even got something for Harris an’ his girl.”

 

Buffy frowned, looking around his bedroom. “But where did you put it all? I would have noticed!”

 

“You’re in class on occasion,” Spike pointed out.

 

“But where did you put it all?”

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

 

Buffy moved quickly to straddle his waist, deciding that his superior attitude was annoying her. “I would like to know, actually.”

 

“Don’t think I should tell you. Surprises are nice.”

 

Buffy’s eyes narrowed, and she decided to find out whether vampires were ticklish; turned out that they were.

 

Spike was soon laughing helplessly and pleading with her to stop. “I’ll tell you!”

 

She paused. “Where did you put them?”

 

The moment’s pause was all he needed to flip them both, ending up on top and threading her fingers with his to keep her hands still. “That’s for me to know, and you not to know.”

 

Buffy giggled as he nuzzled the side of her neck. “You couldn’t tell me where you put them?”

 

“You’d sneak around and poke at them,” Spike replied.

 

Her reply was cut off by the ringing of the phone. With a stern look at her, Spike picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

 

Buffy couldn’t hear the voice on the other end, but she saw the expression on his face. “We’ll be there as soon as possible.”

 

“Who was it?”

 

“Your mum. She said Dawn’s gone missing.”

 

Spike was already out of bed and pulling on his pants, and Buffy wasn’t too far behind. “Why would she go missing?” She looked at the clock. “It’s after eleven! There’s no reason for her to be out of her bed, let alone out of the house.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Spike said. “I made her promise to be careful, and this is what she does.”

 

Buffy was still stuck on the idea that Dawn had snuck out of the house when she knew very well that she was in danger. “She knows she’s the Key; she seemed to be okay with it. Where else would she go?”

 

“Seems your mum figured it out because Janice was gone, too. Her mum called Joyce, and then Joyce checked Dawn’s bed. It was probably some idiot stunt they were doing to be cool.”

 

“Shit.” Buffy yanked her boots on with more force than was necessary. “I’m going to kill her.”

 

Spike’s eyes were sparking with anger. “Not if I get there first.”

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn _knew_ this wasn’t a good idea, but it was all-ages night at the Bronze, and Janice had wanted to go. When their parents had said no, Janice had come up with the bright idea of sneaking out, and she hadn’t wanted to look like a coward.

 

Besides, nobody ever let her do anything these days. Dawn knew that Buffy was out saving the world when she was fourteen. Well, maybe fifteen, but what was one year?

 

What she hadn’t counted on was how scary it was, walking by herself after she and Janice split ways. It was dark, and the street lamps didn’t give off nearly enough light. She wrapped her arms around herself, put her head down, and walked as quickly as she could.

 

Suddenly, a strong hand clamped around her arm, pulling her into an alley. Dawn let out a little shriek that was quickly stifled by another hand. “Ssshhh,” came the hiss in her ear. “You’re being followed.”

 

He kept his hand over her mouth, so Dawn didn’t have much choice about remaining quiet. A minute or so later, she saw a gang of vampires walking down the street. At least, she thought they were vampires. There was something about their manner that alerted her to the fact that they probably weren’t entirely human.

 

The man turned her so that she could see his face, and she recognized Graham, one of her sister’s friends. “If I take my hand away, do you promise not to scream?”

 

Dawn nodded, gulping in the air once he’d pulled back.

 

“You’re Buffy’s little sister,” he said. “Dawn.”

 

“You’re Graham.”

 

He looked really stern. “You shouldn’t be out alone after dark, you or your friend. It’s too dangerous.”

 

Dawn remembered Janice with a sense of fear. “Is she okay? Did you see her?”

 

“The other guy I was with followed her home,” he said. “And now I’m going to walk you back.”

 

She knew that he wasn’t going to give her a choice, but she really didn’t want to see her mom’s face when they showed up at the front door. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Dawn knew that Graham didn’t need directions to her house; he’d been there for Thanksgiving. After a few minutes, he asked, “What were you doing out tonight?”

 

“The Bronze had a thing, and Mom wouldn’t let me go.”

 

“Was it your idea, or your friend’s?”

 

“Hers.”

 

“Didn’t want to look lame?”

 

“Yeah.” She wondered how he’d guessed.

 

As though he’d read her mind, Graham offered, “My younger brother followed me out one time. I was going to a party I didn’t want my parents to know about, so I had to sneak him back in.”

 

“How many brothers do you have?”

 

“Two, and one younger sister.”

 

“You’re the oldest?”

 

“It’s tougher than you think,” he replied. “Your parents expect you to be the responsible one.”

 

Dawn made a face. “Buffy gets to do anything she wants to.”

 

“Buffy’s also out risking her life every night,” he pointed out reasonably.

 

She didn’t want to be reasonable, but she had to admit that the soldier had a point.

 

They walked the rest of the way to her house in silence, and once they arrived, he walked up to the front door and rang the bell. Dawn noticed that he was keeping an eye on her, as though he half-expected her to run away from him.

 

The door opened, and Giles stood there, his eyes taking in both her and her escort. “Come inside, Dawn,” he said. “Your mother’s been worried.”

 

Dawn gulped. Her mom was in the living room, sitting on the couch, and she knew immediately that she’d made a big mistake, even bigger than she’d thought.

 

“Mom—”

 

“Where have you been?” Joyce demanded. “I’ve been worried sick about you. Janice’s mom called me to find out if you knew where her daughter was. How could you do this to me?” She looked past Dawn. “Oh, Graham. Thank you so much for bringing her home.”

 

“It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Summers.” He nodded. “I should get going. I hadn’t finished patrol yet.”

 

At her mother’s look, Dawn murmured a thank you of her own, and he smiled, then left.

 

“I’ll call Spike and let the rest of them know that we found her,” Giles announced as he left them alone.

 

“I’m really sorry,” Dawn blurted out.

 

Joyce frowned. “You’d better be, young lady.”

 

“I just wanted to go out with my friends, like a normal kid!” Dawn said, the unfairness of it all bursting out of her.

 

Joyce wasn’t moved. “You’re not a ‘normal kid,’ Dawn. You’re special, and that means that for right now you have to be more careful.”

 

“Just because Buffy is the Slayer,” Dawn muttered.

 

Her mom fixed her with a glare. “Your sister is not at fault in this. You’re the one who chose to sneak out, and you’re the one who’s going to be grounded. For a week.”

 

Dawn’s eyes widened. “But it’s Christmas vacation!”

 

Joyce smiled grimly. “You probably should have thought about that before you snuck out. Now, go up to your room, and stay there.”

 

Dawn did as she was told, brushing past Giles as he entered the living room. She had to admit that her mom had a point, but she still didn’t think it was fair. Nothing in her life was fair.

 

~~~~~

 

“Thank you for letting us know, Giles,” Mairead said just before hanging up the phone. “Graham brought her home,” she announced for the benefit of the others.

 

Willow grimaced. “I would not want to be Dawn when Buffy gets done with her.”

 

“I’d be more worried about Joyce,” Oz observed. “Moms are tough.”

 

“She did hit Spike over the head with an ax when he attacked Buffy,” Willow agreed.

 

Tara frowned. “When was that?”

 

“Oh, when he was evil,” Willow said, waving a hand. “He took a gang of vampires and attacked the school on parent-teacher night. He was going to kill Buffy, but Joyce stopped him.”

 

Mairead was fascinated. “Then you knew him when he was evil?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Willow said. “And he was really evil. He kidnapped Xander and me and threatened me with a broken bottle if I didn’t cast a love spell for him and Drusilla.”

 

“Who’s Drusilla?” she asked.

 

Willow frowned. “Haven’t you ever heard the whole story?”

 

Mairead shook her head, and Tara echoed her movement. “We’ve heard parts,” Tara said, “but Spike was always so nice to me that I didn’t really ever think of him as being evil.”

 

Willow snuggled up next to Oz on the couch. “Well, I’d be happy to tell the story if you’re interested.”

 

“It would be interesting,” Mairead admitted. “He seems so nice.”

 

“He is!” Willow was quick to say. “Really nice. Now. Xander could back me up on this, but I’m not sure that Buffy likes to talk about it.”

 

“It makes sense,” Tara observed. “They’re really close.”

 

“Way closer than she ever was with Angel,” Willow agreed.

 

Mairead stroked her girlfriend’s hair as she leaned back against her on the loveseat. “I keep wondering if there’s anything we should be doing,” she admitted.

 

Willow shook her head. “I already asked Buffy about that. She said we were already doing it with the patrols.”

 

“There’s not much else, I don’t think,” Tara said.

 

“Unless you could either get rid of Glory or the entire vampire population of Sunnydale,” Oz agreed.

 

Silence fell as they all considered—and discarded—that possibility. “It would be one heck of a Christmas present,” Tara said wistfully.

 

Mairead only wished that it were possible.


	47. New Target

“They say that if you want something done right, you should do it yourself.”

 

Spike knew that voice; it had been burned into his memory after hours of torture. “Took you long enough to look me up,” he replied insolently. Turning slowly to face her, he silently willed Buffy to stay back in his bedroom. He had the ring on, so he could give her a run for her money, but Glory could not find out that she was the Slayer.

 

“Here’s the thing,” Glory said, taking a step closer to him. “I keep hearing these strange rumors. My minions tell me that you’re a good vampire, and that you’re dating the Slayer.”

 

He swallowed. They probably should have figured on Glory picking up on that eventually. Spike shrugged. “Truth is stranger than fiction, I guess.”

 

“And this knight I ran into the other day seemed to think that the Slayer had my Key.” Glory took another couple of steps across his living room, her hips swaying. Spike backed up until he hit the kitchen counter, feeling behind him for the knife he knew was there.

 

“Key?” Spike asked, keeping his tone light. “Dunno anything about a key, unless you mean to my place. ‘Course, she’s got one to her mum’s, and one—”

 

“Shut up!” the Hellgod shouted, her eyes blazing. She seemed to calm herself down with a visible effort. “Okay, let’s get real here. I could snap you like a twig, and I will, unless you tell me where my Key is.”

 

“Sod off,” he replied, his hand closing over the knife hilt. It wasn’t well balanced enough to throw with any accuracy, but the blade glanced off her shoulder, startling her. A moment’s distraction was all Spike really wanted, and he darted past her.

 

He was nearly to the front door, hoping to lead her outside, which would give Buffy a chance to slip out quietly, when he found her in front of him. “That wasn’t very nice,” Glory informed him, just before she slammed her open palm into his chest.

 

Even with the ring on, the blow hurt, and he went flying through the air. Hitting the wall with a sickening crunch, Spike tried to gather his wits about him again. There was no other way out, and fighting in close quarters like this was bound to end badly.

 

“Hey, bitch. Hands off my fiancé.” Buffy came out of the bedroom, ready to strike.

 

Spike sighed and launched himself at Glory when she turned her attention from him to the Slayer. Buffy got in a good kick before Glory’s punch sent her flying in turn, and Spike drove his head into her midsection, sending them both crashing through his door.

 

He could feel her hands on his head once they’d tumbled to a stop, and Spike knew that she was trying to twist his head off.

 

He didn’t want to find out if the ring would prevent him from dusting if he were decapitated.

 

Glory cried out above him, and Spike scrambled to his feet, helped by one of Buffy’s strong hands. “Go!” She pushed him ahead of her, and he ran, but only because he’d taken a firm grip on her hand.

 

“What did you do?”

 

“Hit her with the fire extinguisher,” she gasped out.

 

They burst out into the bright afternoon sunshine. Spike risked a glance over his shoulder and cursed.

 

Buffy met his eyes. “Do you think we can hold her off for a few minutes?”

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“Willow should be on her way.”

 

Spike vaguely remembered what the witch had done the last time they’d needed to get rid of the Hellgod for a while. “Let’s do it, then.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Crap, crap, crap,” Willow muttered as she dashed out of the house, thanking the goddess that she hadn’t been on campus when Buffy had called. Granted, it was winter break, but there were a few things she could have been doing to get a jump-start on the semester.

 

“Willow?” Mairead called, coming up the walk. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Buffy and Spike are facing off with Glory,” she said. “I need to get over there now.”

 

Mairead grabbed her wrist. “Where’s Oz?”

 

“Practice,” Willow replied. “He’s got the van.”

 

“Where are they?” Mairead asked.

 

“Spike’s place, or thereabouts,” Willow replied. The words were hardly out of her mouth when the world seemed to spin around her. “What—”

 

“I can explain later.” The other witch had dropped to her knees on the ground, but Willow knew that she couldn’t spare a moment. Glory had just tossed Buffy into the building with one hand, and was grasping Spike’s left hand with the other.

 

Willow knew that Glory was going for the ring, and that Spike would be a goner if she managed to strip it from his finger. With a brief prayer to any deity who might be listening, Willow focused every ounce of power she had on getting rid of Glory.

 

A moment later, she had joined Mairead on the ground, but the Hellgod was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Willow?”

 

She had blacked out for a moment, because Buffy was kneeling next to her, calling her name urgently. “Hey.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“That took a lot out of me,” she admitted.

 

“Where did you send her?” Mairead asked.

 

Willow looked over to see the other woman being supported by Spike; the vampire was looking none the worse for wear, probably because he was still wearing the ring. “I have no idea. I just wanted her as far away as possible.”

 

Buffy nodded, looking relieved. “You did that last time, too, and you bought us quite a bit of time. It should take her a while to recover.”

 

“Long enough to get through Christmas, anyway,” Spike said. He looked at the two of them. “Your timing was impeccable, ladies.”

 

“It was Mairead,” Willow readily admitted. “I think she teleported both of us.”

 

When the three of them looked at her, Mairead shrugged. “It means that I won’t be much good for some time to come, I’m afraid, but I thought speed might be of the essence.”

 

“It was,” Buffy agreed. “Thanks to both of you, we’re in one piece.” She looked at Spike ruefully. “I don’t think the same can be said for your apartment, though.”

 

He appeared resigned. “Could have been worse, that’s for sure. Think I can at least offer you both a drink before I give you a ride home.”

 

“Tea would be nice.” Mairead’s legs were visibly shaky as Spike helped her up. Willow could feel a similar weakness in her own limbs as Buffy did the same for her.

 

“Very nice,” she agreed fervently.

 

Willow could feel her eyebrows go up as they stepped over the splintered remains of Spike’s front door. “I’ll call Xander,” Buffy said. “I’m sure he’ll help fix that.”

 

“That would be good,” he replied. “I’d rather not have to explain that to my landlord.”

 

The destruction inside suggested that Spike hadn’t taken the fight outside soon enough, and Willow found herself growing dismayed. If it took a Slayer, a nearly invincible vampire, and two powerful witches just to make her back off, she had no idea how they were supposed to actually stop her.

 

~~~~~

 

Doors were relatively easy to install, and Xander had been rather pleased to be called on to help out. Although he had been patrolling more lately, he knew that there were plenty of others who would likely be of more help. Give him a household repair to make, however, and Xander knew he could do something that none of the rest of them could.

 

“Hold that there,” Xander instructed. As Spike held the door in place, he put the pins through the hinges, giving each a little tap with his hammer to drive them home. “That should do it.”

 

“I appreciate it, Harris,” Spike said, closing the door firmly. It swung into place easily, and Xander was pretty sure that it fit better than the old one.

 

“Not a problem,” he responded, beginning to put his tools away. “It’s nice to feel useful for a change.”

 

Spike gave him a sharp look. “You do more than you think. Are you an’ Anya going to be at Joyce’s for Christmas dinner?”

 

“Better than spending the time with my family,” Xander replied. “And I don’t even have to camp out Christmas Eve.”

 

“It’s the little things,” Spike agreed.

 

Xander straightened from his tool chest. “What are you getting Buffy for Christmas?”

 

“I’m not telling.”

 

“Oh, come on, Spike,” Xander replied, picking up the bottle of beer Spike had provided.

 

The vampire shook his head. “Sorry, but no. Buffy will get it out of you. She’s been bugging me ever since she found out I had my shopping done.”

 

Xander sighed. “I just thought I might get an idea for Anya.”

 

“Something sparkly,” Spike suggested succinctly. “Women like that.”

 

Xander frowned. “What do you mean?”  


He shrugged. “Depends. Earrings, bracelets, necklaces, basically anything with gold and jewels. Plus, your girl will probably view it as a good investment.”

 

“Isn’t that a little…I don’t know, cliché?”

 

“Things become cliché for a reason, Harris,” Spike replied. “’Course, you could always give her cash. She’d probably like that.”

 

“She probably would,” Xander agreed ruefully. “You’re right, though. She probably would like jewelry.”

 

“Diamonds,” Spike advised wisely. “They are a girl’s best friend.”

 

Xander raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was me.”

 

Spike shook his head. “That’s what we’d like to think.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Do you have any idea?”

 

“No, I don’t.” Dawn stared at the television, feeling bored and resentful. It really wasn’t fair that she’d been grounded over Christmas break.

 

“Dawn—”

 

“I don’t know!” Dawn burst out. “He hasn’t told me.”

 

Buffy pouted. “Damn.”

 

“What’s the big deal?”

 

“The big deal is that I have no idea what to get him, and if I knew what he got me, I’d know how good his gift has to be.”

 

Dawn stared at her sister. “Just get him a really good gift.”

 

“But what?” Buffy said, her voice nearly a wail.

 

“I don’t know,” Dawn replied. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

 

“Fiancé,” Buffy corrected automatically.

 

Joyce poked her head into the living room. “Get pictures,” she advised.

 

“What?” Buffy frowned. “What kind of pictures?”

 

“Engagement pictures,” Joyce replied. “He doesn’t have a lot of photos of the two of you together, I’m sure, and he’d probably appreciate it.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Good idea, Mom, although it won’t be a surprise.”

 

“It could be,” Dawn pointed out. “Just tell him that you’re taking him out, then go to the sitting. Spike won’t care.”

 

Buffy looked thoughtful. “Maybe.”  


“How is he?” Joyce asked. “You were pretty beat up the other day.”

 

The Slayer winced, and Dawn knew that her mom was not supposed to have noticed that. “He’s good. Spike was wearing the ring, so he wasn’t hurt.”

 

“What are you going to do about her?” Dawn asked. She knew that Glory didn’t know that she was the Key, but it didn’t make her feel very good, knowing that someone was out there, ready to kill her if given half a chance.

 

Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know, Dawnie. I wish I did.”

 

“Well, I think you should kill her,” Dawn stated.

 

Buffy’s smile was strained. “When I figure out how to do that, you’ll be the first to know.”

 

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Dawn muttered.

 

“I’m not being mean; I’m being honest.” Buffy rose from the couch. “I’m going to call Spike. He said he was coming over this afternoon.”

 

Joyce fixed Dawn with a look as soon as Buffy had left the room. “You could try to be a little nicer, you know.”

 

“Why?” Dawn asked. “She’s not being any nicer to me.”

 

“Your sister is trying to keep you safe,” Joyce pointed out. “I think that’s pretty nice.”

 

Dawn sighed as her mom left the room, and went back to staring at the television screen, and back to thinking about how unfair her life really was.

 

~~~~~

 

Tara understood why Mairead was going back to England for Christmas, and she certainly didn’t blame her girlfriend for wanting to be with her family. She might have done the same, except that her family was here, in Sunnydale. And, while she was disappointed that they couldn’t spend the holidays together, Tara didn’t begrudge Mairead the opportunity to go home.

 

Christmas at the Summers’ was even better this year than it had been the last. She knew everyone now, and was more comfortable with them than she had been with her own family. The tree was beautifully decorated, as was the rest of the house, and Joyce appeared to be focused on making certain that everyone was happy.

 

Everybody had dressed up, and everything seemed to sparkle. It was the sort of perfect holiday that Tara had always wanted as a child and had never had. In her house, there had always been tension, mixed with the stiff disapproval of her father.

 

He had never liked her mother’s gifts, but she recognized his distaste for the fear it had been then now.

 

“Let me help you with that,” Giles said, taking the turkey platter out of Joyce’s hands. The others were all taking various dishes and putting them on the table. Tara grabbed one of the vegetable dishes and did the same.

 

“Are we going to open presents tonight?” Dawn asked as soon as they sat down.

 

Joyce looked at her sternly. “Now is not the time, Dawn.”

 

“You said we could talk about it later,” the girl protested.

 

“We always open presents Christmas morning, Dawnie,” Buffy said, a warning in her voice.

 

Dawn’s chin jutted out stubbornly. “No, we don’t. You just remember that because the monks made you remember it that way.”

 

Tara knew exactly what the girl was doing. If she pushed hard enough, Dawn would find out exactly what her mom and sister were willing to let her get away with. It was a strange way to get reassurance on where the three of them stood in relation to one another, but teenagers couldn’t be accused of being logical.

 

Buffy visibly took a deep breath. “No, actually, I remember that because that’s how it always was, and that’s how we did it after—” She stopped.

 

Dawn frowned, sensing a touchy subject. “After what?”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Nibblet,” Spike said.

 

“But—”

 

“That’s enough, Dawn,” Joyce said firmly. “I said we’d talk about it after dinner, and we will.”

 

“Has anyone else seen the new store on Main Street?” Xander asked into the awkward silence that followed. “It looks like they’ve got some interesting things for sale.”

 

“I haven’t,” Giles replied. “Where is it in relation to the Magic Box?”

 

“About two blocks down,” he replied. “It looks like antiques and oddities.”

 

“I’ll have to stop in sometime,” Giles said.

 

With that, the subject seemed to have been successfully changed, and the conversation flowed. Tara noted that Dawn still didn’t look happy, but everyone had apparently decided to ignore her, which was probably a good idea. After a little while, Dawn seemed to get over her bad mood and joined right in.

 

Once dinner had been finished, they all helped clear the table, and everyone seemed to disappear into the living room with mugs of cider, hot chocolate, or eggnog, whatever their preference. Tara had never been able to abide a mess, so she began cleaning up.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Buffy said, entering the kitchen.

 

Tara smiled. “It’s okay. I really don’t mind.”

 

“Are you doing okay?” she asked, sounding worried. “I know Mairead isn’t here, and the rest of us are coupley, so—”

 

Tara rested a hand on Buffy’s shoulder. “It’s okay. We talked about it before she left; it was right for her to go, just like it was right for me to stay.”

 

She smiled. “I’m glad you did. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

 

She tightened her grip on the other woman. “It will be okay, Buffy. You and Spike will stop Glory.”

 

Hope kindled in Buffy’s eyes. “You know that for sure? Did you see something?”

 

Tara hadn’t, and normally she wouldn’t even think about lying, but she sensed that Buffy needed the reassurance. She needed to believe that everything would turn out for the best—more than anything else, she needed to not lose hope.

 

And so Tara lied. “Yeah. I promise, Buffy. Everything is going to be fine.”

 

She often wondered later if Buffy really had believed her, since she didn’t ask for details. Maybe she had just needed someone to say those words, more than she’d needed anything else.

 

~~~~~

 

“Good Christmas?”

 

“The best, luv.”

 

Spike could feel Buffy’s hair spread across his chest, and her hand in his. She was massaging his palm and fingers, which was more erotic than he would have thought it might be.

 

Then again, this was _them_ —nearly everything they did with and to one another could be erotic under the right circumstances.

 

“Did you like how the pictures turned out?”

 

“Yeah. They were great.” Spike knew that she’d wanted to surprise him, but he’d been thrilled with the idea. Even better, it had been clear from the pictures—to him and to everyone who saw them—how Buffy felt about him. It was all in her eyes.

 

She was still wearing the necklace he’d bought for her, refusing to take it off. Perhaps it was silly, but seeing his ring on her finger, his necklace around her neck, knowing that she wore them as a symbol of their love—

 

It wasn’t so very different from the pictures they’d taken with one another.

 

“I hope Dawn liked her presents,” Buffy said.

 

They’d eventually opened presents, but it had been after midnight, so it was technically Christmas. Spike knew that Joyce had kept a few gifts back for the next day, but most had been opened that evening.

 

Spike had to admit that he’d been a little surprised when Giles took Dawn’s side with the observation that his family had always opened gifts on Christmas Eve. He had a feeling that Rupert didn’t share much of his childhood, even with Joyce, because she had immediately agreed that they could open a few presents that night.

 

“Tara said that we’re going to make it,” Buffy said, out of the blue.

 

“Did she?” Spike asked. “She saw something?”

 

Buffy was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

 

“And you didn’t ask?”

 

“She said we were going to make it,” Buffy said, sounding just as stubborn as Dawn had earlier that night.

 

Spike just tugged her closer. “Then I guess we will.”


	48. A Deal With the Devil

“Hey, Spike.”

 

Spike peered down the alley. “Clem?”

 

“Yeah. Can I talk to you?”

 

The other demons appeared nervous, and Spike readily slipped down the dank corridor. “What’s up, mate?”

 

“Thought you might want to know about the rumors I’ve been hearing,” Clem said, shifting from foot to foot.

 

Spike frowned. “You know I appreciate whatever you can tell me, Clem. What’s going on this time?”

 

“I heard that Glory’s hired some vamps.”

 

Spike didn’t like the sound of that at all. “To do what?”

 

“To get their hands on you. She said she’d give them the Gem of Amara in exchange for you, but she wants you alive.” Clem frowned. “I really didn’t like the sound of that.”

 

“You and me both,” Spike muttered, thinking quickly. “Look, don’t say anything to Buffy, alright?”

 

Clem shook his head. “That’s okay. I know she’s your fiancée, but she still makes me nervous.”

 

“She wouldn’t hurt you,” Spike said absently, still thinking about what Clem had told him. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

 

“Be careful!” the gentle demon called after him.

 

Spike knew that he ought to tell Buffy, but he didn’t want to give her one more thing to worry about. After all, they were already aware that Glory was after him, and that the vampires in town would like to get their hands on the ring; it didn’t matter all that much that they’d joined forces.

 

At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

 

~~~~~

 

“How do I look?”

 

“You look amazing.” Xander knew enough to know that there was only one right answer to that question. She wore the earrings he’d given her, though, and they sparkled in her earlobes. They were only diamond chips for now, but he’d promised that once he was making more money, he’d replace them with something better.

 

She smiled brilliantly at him. “Thank you. We should probably get going if we don’t want to be late.”

 

He had to admit that he was a little nervous about this little outing. He hadn’t introduced Anya to the guys he worked with yet, and it was hard to know how they’d take her. The Scoobies didn’t mind her, but then they knew she’d been a vengeance demon for 1200 years; the expectations were a little different.

 

“You know, An,” he began, “maybe you shouldn’t mention sex tonight.”

 

From her expression, she appeared both insulted and suspicious. “Because it would embarrass you?”

 

“My sex life isn’t something I want my co-workers to know about,” Xander said. “If they did, they’d probably be jealous, and that could make things awkward.”

 

Anya brightened at that argument. “They would be jealous, wouldn’t they?”

 

He relaxed; clearly the argument had been a stroke of genius, although it was always hard to tell what Anya believed, and what she chose to let him _think_ she believed. “Probably. I’m pretty sure I have the best girlfriend.”

 

“That goes without saying,” she replied smugly. “Very well. I’ll try not to mention sex.”

 

“I appreciate it.”

 

She kissed him. “Just as long as you promise to pay me back tonight.”

 

Xander smiled. He had no problem with that plan.

 

~~~~~

 

“Come on, Dawn,” Buffy said impatiently. “I’m supposed to be meeting Spike right now.”

 

“Like you didn’t just see him,” Dawn replied breezily, coming out of her bedroom. “It’s not that far to walk. I could go by myself.”

 

Buffy gestured outside. “Hello? It’s dark, remember, and you’re not supposed to be going anywhere by yourself. Let’s go.”

 

“Be careful tonight, Buffy,” Joyce called from the kitchen. “You’ll call if you decide to stay over at Spike’s?”

 

“Sure, I will.”

 

“Call when you’re ready to come home, Dawn,” Joyce ordered. “Rupert or I will come and get you.”

 

“Giles is coming over?” Dawn asked, flipping her long hair outside of her coat.

 

Joyce raised her eyebrows. “Do you have a problem with that?”

 

“I could ask Amber’s mom to drive me back,” Dawn said.

 

Joyce flushed slightly. “I think you’d better call first.”

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Mom!”

 

Joyce met her gaze. “What?”

 

She sighed. “Never mind. Let’s go, Dawnie.”

 

Once they were outside, Dawn glanced over at her sister. “I thought you said it was going to get less weird.”

 

“Hasn’t it?” Buffy asked, not wanting to address the topic of their mom having sex with her Watcher.

 

The younger girl made a face. “I guess a little.”

 

“There you go,” Buffy replied.

 

“But they’re—”

 

“They’re grown-ups, Dawn,” she said. “They’re allowed.”

 

Dawn sighed. “It’s really gross.”

 

Buffy made a face. “Tell me about it.”

 

~~~~~

 

Willow glanced over at Oz, who was standing by the window again. He kept going back and forth between the couch and the front window. “Is something wrong?”

 

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’m just restless tonight.”

 

She frowned. “Is it a full moon?”

 

“No. Something else.”

 

Concerned now, Willow joined him by the window, trying to calm herself enough to stretch out her senses, hoping that she would be able to sense what he did. She wasn’t quite as sensitive, however, and so she couldn’t quite catch what was making him jittery. “Do you want to go for a walk? Maybe we’ll run into Spike and Buffy on patrol.”

 

Oz shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea tonight.”

 

“Too wolfish?”

 

“Yeah, something like that.” He turned to look at her, and the hunger in his eyes was almost frightening—almost. “Let’s go to bed.”

 

Willow didn’t comment on the earliness of the hour; in truth, she didn’t mind a bit. She knew she was in for a wild ride, and she was looking forward to it.

 

~~~~~

 

“I thought Spike and Buffy were supposed to meet us,” Mairead observed.

 

Tara rubbed her hands together to ward off the chill. “They were, about fifteen minutes ago. I have no idea what’s going on.” Her girlfriend had her hands buried in her pockets, but she didn’t seem to be bothered by the chill the way Tara was. She supposed England’s winters were a little colder than California’s.

 

“Do you think we should wait?” Mairead asked.

 

She shook her head. “I don’t know. If something is wrong, maybe we should wait. Buffy and Spike will know where to find us.”

 

“And if we stay put, you may freeze,” her girlfriend observed. “Let’s start walking towards his place. At least then, we’re sure to run into them if they come looking.”

 

Tara agreed readily, liking the idea of moving to get her blood flowing again. “Okay.”

 

Walking along in silence, Mairead tucked her hand through Tara’s arm. Although they stole time alone together as often as possible, there was something about walking along the streets after dark that was magical. The streets were quiet in this part of town, and it almost seemed as though they were the only two people in the world.

 

They were only a couple of blocks from Spike’s apartment when they saw Buffy hurrying towards them, her expression panicked. “Buffy?” Tara called. “Is something wrong?”

 

“I don’t know,” she said breathlessly. “Spike’s not at his place, and it looks like there was a fight.”

 

“Let’s go,” Mairead said.

 

The three of them hurried towards his place in a worried silence. “Can you guys do a locator spell?” Buffy asked after a few minutes.

 

“I’m sure we can,” Tara said, casting a look at her girlfriend. Locator spells weren’t always helpful, or successful, particularly when there were strong magical sources nearby. Glory would probably qualify.

 

When they arrived, the apartment was a mess. It was clear that there had been a fight, and that Spike had not gone easily—not that Tara would have expected any less.

 

“It was like this when I arrived,” Buffy explained. “I was late, because I had to take Dawn to a friend’s house.”

 

Mairead knelt down by the door. “I don’t think you would have arrived in time, even had you not been late, Buffy. This blood is nearly dry.”

 

“Whose blood?” she asked.

 

The dark haired witch rose to her feet. “It’s impossible to tell. We could use it for the locator spell, but if it isn’t Spike’s, I don’t think it will do much good.”

 

“It might if it leads us to another vampire, though,” Buffy said. “If they were after the ring, we’ll need to know who has it, and where Spike is.”

 

Tara exchanged a look with her girlfriend. “Um, Buffy,” Tara began. “Don’t you think that the vampires would have just killed him and taken the ring?”

 

“There really wouldn’t be any point in leaving him alive,” Mairead mused, then winced. “I’m sorry, Buffy.”

 

“No, you’re right.” Buffy swallowed, but tried to keep a brave face. “Look, can you guys do a locator spell? I’m going to round up Graham, and maybe some of the other soldiers, just in case we need the extra help.”

 

Tara agreed readily enough. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Buffy. Spike’s tough.”

 

Buffy smiled tightly. “I know.” But she didn’t sound very certain.

 

~~~~~

 

Graham settled the holster over his shoulder. “We’ll find him, Buffy.”

 

“Thanks. I don’t even know where to start. Mairead and Tara were going to do a locator spell, and hopefully that will narrow it down for us. I mean, I know Glory was after him, and some of the vampires in town wanted the ring, but—” She stopped when she saw the expression on his face. “Was it something I said?”

 

“I’m still not used to the magic stuff,” he admitted. “Although you think I would be by now.”

 

Buffy shrugged. “It takes getting used to.”

 

“So what’s with the ring?” Graham asked.

 

“Ever wonder how Spike gets around during the day?”

 

“That’s the secret?”

 

Buffy shrugged. “Pretty much. It also makes him invulnerable to a lot of other things, which is fine when it’s Spike. If another vamp got their hands on it, though, it would be really bad news.”

 

“Do you think that’s what happened?”

 

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “Mairead and Tara seemed to think that if that was it, Spike would be dust by now.”

 

“Makes sense,” Graham admitted. He regretted the words almost as soon as they were out of his mouth. “I’m sure he’s not dead, Buffy.”

 

“No, you’re not,” she replied. “I’m not even sure, but I feel like I would know. We’ve been together in one way or another for so long now, you would think I’d know.”

 

Graham didn’t reply. He knew it didn’t always work like that.

 

“Why did you become a soldier?” Buffy asked, as they climbed into his Jeep.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

 

“Distract me. Tell me why you got into this line of work. I’ve got a destiny; you don’t.”

 

Graham frowned, trying to remember. “I don’t know.”

 

“That’s not an answer.”

 

He realized that even if he didn’t remember why he’d joined up, he would have to make something up. “Everyone in my family seemed to do a tour,” he admitted. “My grandpa, my dad, my uncles. There wasn’t a lot of money, so it seemed like a good way to pay for college.”

 

“And this part?”

 

“They offered me a spot on an elite team, doing something real.” Graham had wanted adventure, and that’s what the Initiative had offered. That’s who generally joined the Secret Forces—the men who wanted to make a real difference, and the ones who enjoyed the challenge.

 

There had also been those who had liked the kill, but they’d all left Sunnydale.

 

“I get that,” Buffy said.

 

“I thought you might.” He pulled up in front of the small house. “Anything else you want to know?”

 

“Are you dating anybody?” Buffy asked.

 

Graham smiled. “Do you have any single friends?” When she chuckled, he knew he’d done his job.

 

~~~~~

 

The group of vampires had burst in unannounced, in the kind of numbers that made it next to impossible to fight against. Spike had done his best, but they had overwhelmed him quickly, and he’d been knocked unconscious early in the game. When he finally woke up, his hands were chained above his head in a familiar position.

 

“Bloody hell,” Spike muttered.

 

“You finally decided to join us, I see,” Glory said, standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. “It’s about time.”

 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he replied, his words dripping with sarcasm.

 

She shrugged. “Whatever. I’ve been having your friends clean up after me.”

 

He looked past her to about eight vampires, with half a dozen bodies in front of them. “What—”

 

“Thanks, guys,” Glory said. “That’s all I need.”

 

“Where’s our reward?” one of them demanded.

 

She stared at him, clearly affronted. “Excuse me? You’re alive, aren’t you? And I let you have my leftovers. I don’t see what the problem is.”

 

“The ring,” said a second. “You promised.”

 

“I did, didn’t I?” Glory held up the ring and stared at it critically. “Maybe I should just destroy it.”

 

Spike held his breath. On the one hand, it would probably be better if Glory did crush it; that way, Buffy wouldn’t have to worry about getting it back.

 

He still wanted it, though—for the wedding and the wedding night, if for nothing else.

 

She shrugged. “You know, giving it to you will probably make the Slayer crazy, and I’m okay with that.” Glory tossed the ring towards the group. “Take it and get out.”

 

The smallest and quickest vampire of the lot snatched the ring out of the air, then took off running for the door, the rest of them following. Spike knew that they would battle it out, leaving only the strongest behind—and leaving Buffy with a formidable opponent.

 

This was not good.

 

Glory turned her attention back to him. “I’m sure you know what I invited you here for.”

 

“That was an invitation?” Spike asked mockingly. “Thought that was supposed to be engraved or something. I even have a mailbox these days, so I know you didn’t send it through the regular post.”

 

The slap across his face felt a lot more like getting hit with a two-by-four. “I want my Key, vampire, and I want it now.”

 

“Can’t do that,” Spike said, knowing that they were now getting down to business. Unlike the last time, he knew that Buffy would come for him. The only problem was that he didn’t want to risk her. His best chance was to enrage her so that she knocked him loose again, then he could run.

 

Assuming that he was still capable of running at that point.

 

Glory’s eyes narrowed. “Is that right? Well, you’re going to be begging to tell me before this is all over.”

 

Spike snorted. “Is that right? I’ll have you know that I was tortured by the best in the business for weeks, and I didn’t crack.”

 

“Then they must not have wanted it badly enough.”

 

He swallowed hard.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy wanted to pace, but she knew that it would only serve as a distraction. Tara and Mairead had nearly finished up the spell preparations by the time she and Graham had arrived at the house, and now they were still trying to figure out where Spike actually was.

 

She was scared stiff with all of the horrible possibilities going through her mind. She just wanted to find him, and she wanted him to be in one piece. Buffy didn’t think that was too much to ask for, given everything they’d been through.

 

“I think he’s at the high rise,” Tara finally said.

 

Buffy stiffened. “Glory has him. Shit. Why didn’t I think of that?”

 

“You’re beside yourself with worry, that’s why,” Mairead replied. “And rightly so. What are we going to need?”

 

“An arsenal,” Buffy replied. “Or something.” She put a hand to her head. “I don’t know. The last time I faced Glory, I had a robot and a troll hammer. We’re going to have to deal with her scabby little hobbits, too.”

 

“I’ll get Willow and Oz,” Tara said. “We’ll be able to do more with them helping.”

 

“Let me call the other guys,” Graham offered. “I don’t know what we’ll be able to do, but at the very least, we’ll be able to provide a distraction.”

 

Buffy nodded, trying frantically to come up with another idea. It didn’t seem like enough, but she knew it would have to suffice.


	49. Rescue

Buffy surveyed her troops and wondered if it would be good enough. Last time, she’d been able to use the Buffy-bot to distract Glory for the few minutes she’d needed. This time, she would have to rely on three witches, an equal number of soldiers, and a werewolf. Although she could have used the Dagon Sphere, she knew they might need it later. Right now, all she wanted was to get Spike out in one piece.

 

“Okay, last time Glory had Spike, he managed to get free before I arrived, so I’m not sure where she’s holding him.”

 

“Last time?” one of the soldiers echoed. Buffy thought his name was Walker.

 

Graham shook his head. “Probably a good idea not to ask, Walker,” he said, confirming Buffy’s memory. “She’s got inside information.”

 

Buffy nodded at him in thanks. “Do you think you guys can transport Glory again?” she asked, looking at Mairead, Tara, and Willow.

 

They looked at each other, communicating wordlessly. “I don’t know,” Willow admitted. “If we do that, we won’t be able to do anything else.”

 

Buffy swallowed. “What else were you thinking?”

 

“A shield for Spike if necessary,” Tara replied. “I thought we might need to get him out of there more than anything else.”

 

The Slayer nodded reluctantly. “You’re right. Graham, you and your guys focus on the scabby little hobbits. They’re not that strong, but there are enough of them that they could present a problem.”

 

“It’s done, Buffy,” he promised.

 

She took a deep breath and looked at Oz. “If you could—”

 

He raised the crossbow he’d brought. “If nothing else, I can put a few of these in her. That might distract her from you and Spike.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Thanks.”

 

“We’ll get him out, Buffy,” Graham said, his words a promise. “We don’t leave a man behind.”

 

She took a deep breath. “Right. Let’s do this.”

 

~~~~~

 

Spike hadn’t been lying when he’d told Glory that he had been tortured by the best; the First Evil and her Turok Han had been experts compared to the Hellgod. She wasn’t patient enough to be a true master; Spike knew that much about torture. It was why he’d never been any good at it either.

 

He clenched his teeth as she struck him again, in an area she’d already bruised. “Where is my Key?”

 

“Sod off,” Spike snarled through swollen lips.

 

Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe I’ll just tear your tongue out,” she suggested. “Or your eyes, so you can still tell me where my Key is.”

 

Spike smothered the fear that he felt at the threat. There wasn’t much he could do if she chose to remove a body part, and it wouldn’t grow back. “I wouldn’t tell a whorish fashion victim like you where the ladies’ room was.”

 

“Argh!” Her inarticulate cry of rage was followed by a backhand that stunned him.

 

Spike spat out blood on the carpet, trying to focus on his main goal—getting out of this alive, and getting back to Buffy with their secret intact. Dawn’s life was worth more than his, and he had more reason than the last time to refuse to give in.

 

Glory’s next cry was one that sounded more pained than angry, and Spike peered through the eye that hadn’t already swollen shut. She was clutching her head in a manner that was both familiar and frightening.

 

“I need a brain!” she cried. “Bring me a brain!”

 

“We don’t have one readily available, your Magnificence,” one of the minions groveled. “But we can fetch one.”

 

“Do it!” she shrieked, then moaned. Glory looked at Spike, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve never tried this with a vampire before.”

 

Before Spike even realized what she was doing, she’d plunged both hands into his head, and although he’d managed not to cry out before, he couldn’t help himself now. He screamed hoarsely, feeling as though she was tearing into his very soul.

 

~~~~~

 

“That’s Spike,” Buffy said, hearing the scream as they got off the elevator. She took off at a run, with the soldiers following closely.

 

Tara followed with the others, all of them moving as quickly as they could. Buffy was dashing across the small space between the elevator and the door across from them.

 

The noise she’d heard hadn’t sounded like Spike at all; it had been too desperate, almost inhuman. And, although Spike wasn’t human, he certainly sounded like one.

 

Before Buffy could get to the door, Graham grabbed the Slayer’s arm and held her back. One of the other soldiers shot off the lock, and Buffy completed the job with a swift kick to the door. It flew open, and the soldiers followed her inside, weapons at the ready. If Tara hadn’t known better, she would have thought that Buffy had trained with them, the maneuver was so perfectly executed.

 

She couldn’t help the involuntary gasp that escaped her throat when she caught sight of Spike, his arms tied over his head with chains suspended from the ceiling. Glory’s hands were thrust into his skull, on either side of his head—but not for long.

 

Buffy tore the Hellgod away from him, inserting herself between him and Glory. “I already told you,” the Slayer snarled. “Hands off my fiancé, bitch.”

 

Glory appeared to be sick, because instead of fighting back, she dropped to her knees. “I need a brain.”

 

“You’re not getting one.” Buffy hit her with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head, then glanced over her shoulder at Spike. “Are you okay, honey?”

 

“Will be,” he gasped out.

 

Tara, realizing that the soldiers, along with Oz and Willow, were taking care of Glory’s minions, grasped Mairead’s hand, and they both moved to support Spike on either side. “We’ll have you out in a minute,” Tara promised, focusing on the manacle on his left wrist.

 

Both locks clicked open simultaneously, and Spike would have fallen to the floor had they not been there to support his weight. “We’ve got you, Spike,” Mairead murmured when the whimper was torn from his throat. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

 

“Help Buffy,” he managed. “She’ll need it. Glory will kill her. Can’t let her die again. Promised. Please.”

 

Tara realized that Glory had done some damage while her hands had been inside his skull; she hoped it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be repaired with time. She heard a gasp from behind her and looked over her shoulder.

 

Buffy was standing in front of a young man who was kneeling, a trickle of blood coming from one side of his mouth. He was wearing women’s clothing, and for a moment, Tara thought it might be the same dress that Glory had had on when they’d come through the door.

 

“Where did Glory go?” she asked, bewildered.

 

Spike broke away from them, clearly seeing something in the scene that they were missing. “Buffy, no. Not on my account.”

 

She turned her head to look him in the eyes. “It’s for Dawn, too.” And with those words, she turned back to the stranger, who still appeared dazed. “I’m sorry,” she told him, just before she snapped his neck.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow couldn’t believe her eyes. “Buffy!”

 

She saw a tear streak down her friend’s cheek before the other girl turned to Spike, drawing his arm over her shoulders. “We need to get out of here,” she said calmly.

 

Willow stared at the body of the dead man. “He was Glory,” she murmured, remembering how his form had shifted before their eyes, even though she hadn’t recalled that fact when Buffy snapped his neck.

 

“I didn’t have a choice,” Buffy said, her eyes meeting Willow’s for the first time, clearly looking for understanding if not acceptance.

 

“You didn’t have a choice,” Graham said, taking a position on Spike’s other side. “It was her or you.”

 

Willow took a deep breath. “He’s right, Buffy. It was the only way to defeat Glory.”

 

She didn’t know if that was the truth or not, but it was close enough.

 

“Can’t leave,” Spike said, trying to pull away from Graham and Buffy. “They’ve got the ring, luv. Wanted to stop them. Wanted—”

 

“Hush,” Buffy said. “We’ll find the ring, Spike, but we’ve got to get you somewhere safe first.”

 

“Our place,” Tara said firmly. “We can probably do something for his injuries, and it might be better if your mom and Dawn don’t see him like this.”

 

“You’re right,” Buffy agreed. “Good thing the sun is still down. I wouldn’t want to risk it right now.”

 

Spike had lapsed into unconsciousness before they reached the elevator, which Willow thought was probably a mercy, given the extent of his injuries. “Do you know of anything that will help a vampire heal?” she whispered to Mairead.

 

The witch shook her head, her lips pressed together. “I’ve never tried to heal a vampire.”

 

Willow took a deep breath, her mind racing. They would need to find the Gem of Amara, preferably before whatever vampire had it did something horrible.

 

Then, of course, they would need to get it back. Willow thought that might be the harder task.

 

~~~~~

 

Xander could admit that he’d had just a little bit too much to drink, but not so much that he was actually drunk. Maybe he was pleasantly buzzed, but there was a difference.

 

“Mmm…Xander.” Anya nibbled at his ear as he began unbuttoning her blouse as soon as the door was closed behind them. “How did I do tonight?”

 

“You were perfect,” he said fervently. “Absolutely perfect.”

 

“Do you think they were jealous?”

 

“Are you kidding?” he asked, in between kisses. “They probably want to get rid of me so they can steal you away.”

 

“They don’t have a chance.”

 

Xander pulled back, meeting her eyes. “I love you.”

 

“I know. I love you, too.”

 

For a long time, they were the only two people in the world, and it was perfect. They were still basking in the afterglow when Xander noticed the blinking light on the answering machine. “We’ve got a message,” he muttered.

 

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Anya asked plaintively.

 

He sighed. “I wish, but with Glory on the loose, I don’t think we can wait that long.”

 

She grimaced but reached across him to hit the play button. “Xander, it’s Buffy. Glory grabbed Spike, and we’re going after him. We don’t have time to wait for you guys. I’ll call you when we—when we get him back.”

 

Xander exchanged a look with Anya, then forwarded the machine to the next message. “It’s Buffy. We got Spike back, and we’re taking him to Willow’s. Before he passed out, he was able to tell us that another vampire has the ring. We’re not sure who it was, and he’s not waking up to tell us. If you get this, and you can, meet us over there.”

 

Anya was already up and gathering their clothes. “I’ll grab your jeans. You’d probably better not wear your good clothes.”

 

Xander thought about asking why Anya was so willing to help out when she hadn’t been in the past, then he remembered what was said about gift horses and their mouths. Although he wasn’t really sure why you weren’t supposed to look in a gift horse’s mouth.

 

“Anya,” he called after her. “Thanks.”

 

She smiled. “They’re my friends, too, Xander.”

 

“I know, but still.” He shrugged. “Just thank you.”

 

“I’ll get your clothes,” she said again, but she looked pleased.

 

Xander knew that once this was all over, he would have to find a way to thank her properly.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike heard voices, but he couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. He thought that Buffy was near, but he wasn’t certain. Things were fuzzy, but he couldn’t remember why.

 

“Hey, Spike.” This time he recognized the voice as Buffy’s. “You need blood.”

 

“Buffy?”

 

“That’s right. Just drink, baby, okay?”

 

Spike felt the straw between his lips, and he sucked on it reflexively. After the first taste, he stopped, realizing that it tasted wrong. “No.”

 

“Don’t fight it, Spike. It’s not going back in.”

 

“It’s yours,” he said hoarsely.

 

He heard her snort. “If you could see yourself, you’d keep drinking. You need this, so stop arguing.”

 

Spike wanted to fight it, but it was clear that while the blood might have been hers at one point, it wasn’t rushing through her body now. It wasn’t long before he heard the telltale sound that indicated he’d reached the bottom of the glass.

 

“Sleep now,” she said gently. “I have to go look for the ring, but I’ll be back. Willow and the others will be around.”

 

“You’ll need help,” he protested, trying to open his eyes. One was still swollen shut, but he could just make her out through the other.

 

She frowned. “Not from you. You’re not even thinking straight. I don’t know what Glory did to you, but you belong in bed.”

 

“You killed him,” Spike said, suddenly remembering. “You killed Ben for me.”

 

“Not just for you.” Buffy kept her voice low. “It was for Dawn, and for me, too. You remember what happened the last time; he helped her. Maybe he didn’t have a choice, but—”

 

“Neither did you.” Spike managed to get the words out, even though the darkness beckoned. “No other way,” he murmured, dropping down into a dreamless sleep.

 

~~~~~

 

Their voices washed over her, but Buffy was so tired she found it almost impossible to focus. Graham had sent his men out on patrol earlier but had insisted on staying himself, saying that he could still help.

 

The witches were talking about various locator spells they could do, and Anya was volunteering to go to the Magic Box to pick up books. Xander was talking about making a coffee run. Buffy knew she should be out looking for the vampire who had ended up with the ring, but the others had convinced her to wait. It made more sense to pinpoint the ring’s location if possible, instead of heading out on a wild goose chase.

 

The doorbell rang, and Buffy rose. “I’ll get it,” she announced.

 

Giles stood on the other side of the door when she opened it. “Giles! You didn’t have to come.” Buffy had called her mom to let her know that she wouldn’t be home. Although she’d skirted the gory details, it appeared that her Watcher had read between the lines.

 

“Of course I did.” He stepped inside and drew her off to the side, out of earshot of the living room. “What happened? I heard some of the story from Joyce, but there’s probably a little more to it than that.”

 

She told him exactly what had happened, in as few words as possible. “I know I probably shouldn’t have killed Ben,” Buffy finished helplessly. “But Spike had been hurt so badly, and I knew that if Glory found out about Dawn, he’d probably help her again.”

 

“Who would help her?” Giles asked, interrupting.

 

“Ben.” Buffy took a deep breath. “Dawn got away briefly last time, and he was the one who found her and brought her back. Maybe he was as much a victim as Dawn, but—”

 

Giles’ hands came to rest on her shoulders, squeezing gently. “You did the necessary thing, Buffy. You cannot second guess yourself.”

 

“But what if—”

 

“I think we’re both aware of how futile that question is,” he reminded her. “You can only do your best.”

 

Buffy felt the tears well up. “I knew it would probably come to this,” she confessed. “I knew there might not be another way to kill Glory, but I didn’t want—I never wanted—”

 

He pulled her close, and she rested her forehead on his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. It came to Buffy then that when she thought of her father, it was Giles’ scent that came to mind, the feeling of his arms, and not Hank Summers’. It had been so long since her own father had simply given her a hug.

 

“You did everything you could.” He pulled back, looking her in the eye. “Where’s Spike?”

 

“In Tara and Mairead’s room, sleeping,” Buffy replied. “He was hurt really bad, Giles. I think even worse than last time. Glory tried to brain suck him; I don’t know how much damage she did.”

 

“Get some sleep,” he advised.

 

“Glory gave the Gem of Amara to one of the vampires who nabbed him,” Buffy objected. “I should—”

 

“You’re exhausted,” he said, cutting her off. “You won’t do anyone any good if you’re dead on your feet. Let us do the research and find the ring. We’ll wake you when we need you.”

 

Buffy opened her mouth to object, but changed her mind. Sleep was exactly what she wanted at the moment, and she didn’t want to be any farther from Spike than she had to be. “Okay. I’ll let you.”

 

“Good.” He smiled. “Let us help, Buffy. You’ve done enough for one day.”

 

She didn’t argue.

 

~~~~~

 

Giles looked around at the faces. “I sent Buffy to get some sleep,” he said. “I think we ought to retrieve the ring if at all possible.”

 

“I’m game,” Xander said. “Since I missed the big fight earlier.”

 

He looked at the witches. “Do you think you can find the gem?”

 

The three of them looked at one another, and Willow spoke for the group. “We won’t know until we try, but we think so. It’s going to take some work, though.”

 

“I’d like to call Gertrude,” Mairead said quietly. “She may know of an easier way to find it.”

 

Giles nodded. “That’s a very good idea. Make the call, and I’ll reimburse you.”

 

“Thank you.” She rose to go to the phone.

 

He turned to Anya. “Would you and Xander go to the shop? There are a few things that I think we will need.”

 

“Of course.” The ex-demon rose with alacrity. “Come on, Xander. We can get the coffee while we’re out.”

 

“And donuts,” Willow said. “They’ll be open by now.”

 

Graham spoke for the first time. “What are we going to do when we find this vampire? If it’s invulnerable.”

 

“Beheading might distract it,” Oz suggested.

 

“Or removing its hand or arm,” Willow added helpfully.

 

Tara cleared her throat. “What if the vampire took the ring off?”

 

“Why would he do that?” Willow asked.

 

She shrugged, her cheeks flushing. “Metal conducts heat really well. It would just take a simple spell to cause it to heat so much that it takes it off.”

 

There was a long pause, and they all began to grin. “I like the way you think,” Graham said.

 

Tara shrugged. “It seems the easiest way, and there are three of us witches.”

 

Giles nodded. “Good. We’ll use Tara’s plan, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll go with Oz and Willow’s suggestion.” He turned to Graham. “Do you know how to use a sword?”

 

“No, but I’m fairly handy with an ax,” he replied. “If you’ve got one.”

 

The Watcher smiled grimly. “I think we’ll be able to find one for you.”


	50. United We Stand

In the end, what they came up with was a locator spell for all the vampires in Sunnydale. Tara had suggested waiting for the sun to rise, then casting it, since it was more likely than not that whichever vampire had ended up with the ring would be the only one out and about. Although that meant possibly waiting until the vampire had done some damage, it seemed the only surefire way to catch it quickly.

 

Tara stood in the doorway of her bedroom. Both Buffy and Spike were sleeping, and it appeared as though the Slayer’s choice to feed Spike some of her blood had been beneficial. His bruises were fading a little faster than Tara thought they might have otherwise.

 

Buffy stirred and looked over at Tara. “Did you find him?”

 

She shook her head. “Not yet. You can sleep a little longer.” Tara didn’t tell her that they weren’t planning on using the Slayer at all during this venture. In a way, it made sense; Buffy and Spike had done so much, and taken so much on themselves. They deserved a break.

 

Buffy looked at Spike, touching one bruised cheek gently. “He looks better, doesn’t he?”

 

“A lot better,” Tara agreed. “I’ll wake you when we know something.”

 

It was a mark of her exhaustion that Buffy did as she was told without argument. Tara went back out to the living room, and found that Xander had returned from the Magic Box with the rest of the supplies they’d needed for the spell. Anya had decided to work that day, and Tara had already called Joyce to let her know that she wouldn’t be in.

 

“How is Spike?” Joyce had asked, sounding anxious.

 

“Better.” Tara didn’t know if Buffy had told her about the extent of Spike’s injuries, and so thought that keeping her response generic would be safer. “Once we get the ring back, he’ll be as good as new.”

 

“Call me when you have it,” Joyce said. “Or if you need anything.”

 

Tara thought that this was how a real family was supposed to work—helping one another out with no questions asked, taking care of each other, picking up the slack when one member faltered. It was refreshing.

 

“I think we’re ready,” Mairead announced.

 

Tara took her place at one point of the triangle, Mairead on her right, and Willow on her left. They had worked magic together often enough, and long enough, that it felt natural and easy, and when the points around the map lit up, it was obvious where their target was.

 

“That’s the grocery store,” Graham observed, sounding very nonchalant for someone who hadn’t even believed in magic that long ago.

 

“It makes a certain kind of sense when you think about it,” Oz said.

 

Willow grimaced. “People go shopping, and so does the vampire. It’s a public location, though.”

 

“I’m not certain it would care,” Giles pointed out. “The vampire would be invulnerable, at least in theory.”

 

“We’ll just have to prove that theory wrong,” Xander said. “So, who’s driving?”

 

“Better take the van,” Oz replied. “I’ll get it started.”

 

Tara took a deep breath, knowing that this would be the greatest test of their teamwork yet.

 

~~~~~

 

Graham had insisted on sticking around for a number of reasons. To a certain extent, he felt as though he owed Buffy and Spike; they had been responsible for taking down Adam, and they were also responsible for keeping Sunnydale safe. He got paid to do the job; they didn’t. It wasn’t a good idea to allow another vampire to hang onto the ring, and making sure they got it back was in his job description.

 

He also wanted to see how it all turned out, though. Things tended to get interesting around the Slayer and her friends, and Graham wanted to be there for the ending.

 

When they entered the grocery store, it was clear that finding the lone vampire among all the humans was going to be a difficult task. It seemed that everyone in town was there, which made sense since it was a Saturday morning.

 

“Now what?” Xander asked. “We can’t go around the store asking everyone if they have a pulse.”

 

“Here.” Graham produced the heat sensing goggles he’d insisted on picking up on their way to the store. “Look for the person without the normal body heat.”

 

“Aren’t people going to ask questions?” Willow asked. “I mean, we already stick out.”

 

Sure enough, they were already getting strange looks from departing patrons who saw the group standing near the door. “Can’t you do a spell to fix that? Make people ignore us?”

 

There was a moment’s silence after Graham’s suggestion, then Mairead said, “I think we might be able to work something out.”

 

The girls held a quick conference, and Tara said, “I’ll do it. We only need to shield one person, and when they find the vampire, it’s only going to take one of us to heat the ring.”

 

“What if he tries running outside?” Oz asked. “Someone is going to need to cut off its escape route.”

 

“Oz, you and Xander wait outside,” Giles said. “Tara, you and Graham find the vampire. Willow and Mairead follow and do the spell on the ring.”

 

“What are you going to do?” Xander asked.

 

Giles smiled. “I’ll be outside with you two.”

 

Graham had no problem recognizing Giles’ authority. “Sounds good to me.”

 

They dispersed, and Tara laid a hand on his arm. Graham had never worked with Tara much in the past, but she seemed like a nice girl and an experienced witch.

 

And he couldn’t even believe he knew of an “experienced witch” with real magical powers.

 

“Okay,” she said after a few seconds. “They should ignore us now.”

 

“What did you do?” he asked.

 

“Just a spell to make people not notice us,” she explained. “It’s pretty simple.”

 

Graham used the infra-red binoculars to check out the body heat. They were more difficult to use during the day, but then again, they were meant for hunting creatures of the night.

 

They wandered up and down the aisles, Willow and Mairead trailing behind. “There he is,” Graham said, honing in on a thin, nondescript man bending over a baby carriage. The infant’s mother was eyeing the man with a mixture of discomfort and pride as he admired her child. Graham often thought that the people of Sunnydale didn’t follow their instincts nearly as often as they should.

 

“Are you sure?” Tara whispered.

 

“Very. No body heat,” he replied. Then, pulling the binoculars away from his face, he caught the winking of the green gem on the vampire’s finger. “And he’s wearing the ring.”

 

“We got him,” Willow said. She and Mairead joined hands and stared at the vampire—or the ring. Graham wasn’t sure which they were focused on so intently.

 

The vampire suddenly shot straight up, looking alarmed. He backed away from the stroller and ran into the meat case. Willow and Mairead backed away out of sight, and the vampire stuck his hand in the cold air of the case.

 

Graham watched as the witches narrowed their eyes, and the vampire yelped, yanking the ring off his hand, then dropping it into the cooler.

 

Tara darted out, scooping the ring out of the case. The vampire sprang for her and crumbled into dust in almost the same instant.

 

Graham looked around, trying to figure out who had staked the vampire. Tara was comforting the baby’s mother, who had begun to cry.

 

“Mairead got him,” Willow said quietly. “Word of caution—never go after a witch’s girlfriend, or boyfriend.”

 

“How?” Graham asked.

 

“She levitated a stake,” Willow explained. “We’re resourceful like that.”

 

“I guess so.” Graham made a mental note not to piss any of them off. Ever.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike woke slowly, his thoughts jumbled, although he could still taste the Slayer’s blood. He could feel her hair spread over his chest, her breath on his shoulder; the swelling had gone down in his face, but he had no desire to open his eyes.

 

“How are you feeling?”

 

“Better,” he murmured. “Take it you didn’t get the ring back.”

 

“Tara said they were going to wake me up when they figured out where it is.”

 

He felt her rise and heard the door open. “Buffy?”

 

“I’ll be right back.”

 

Spike forced the one eye open; the other was still swollen shut. He didn’t think that Glory had done as much damage the first time around, probably because she hadn’t been quite as pissed off at him the last time. “Buffy?”

 

“They’re not here,” she said, coming back into the room with a puzzled frown on her face.

 

“They get something to eat?”

 

“I don’t know.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you want more blood?”

 

“Long as it’s not yours.”

 

“I think they bought some last night. I’ll get it.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

 

He tried to push himself up into a sitting position and gasped at the pain. “Bloody hell,” he hissed. Gritting his teeth, Spike managed to get himself upright. He eyed the door, wondering if he dared try to walk.

 

“Don’t even think about it,” Buffy warned him, re-entering the room with a mug. “You can stay put until we get the ring back, and you’re as good as new.”

 

“Vampires heal fast, luv,” Spike reminded her, taking the mug. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“Humor me,” she ordered. “This is the second time you got tortured by Glory, and I’m making up for lost time.”

 

Spike drank the blood down, relieved to find that it was from the butcher’s. Although the idea of drinking from Buffy had appeal, he didn’t want her to donate a pint every time he was hurt.

 

“She really did a number on you this time, didn’t she?” she asked, curling up next to him on the bed.

 

“Yeah. She was a bit more brassed off this time.”

 

“How’s your head?” she asked, sounding a little anxious. “You weren’t real coherent when we arrived.”

 

Spike shook his head. “Think I’ll be fine. It’s still a bit fuzzy, but it’s been worse.” He met her eyes, and he could see that she knew he was referring to what the First had done to him in the basement of the high school—so very long ago now.

 

He took a deep, unnecessary breath, and said, “It’s done, Buffy.”

 

“What?” she asked, with a frown. “I don’t—”

 

“Glory’s dead, luv, and you’re alive. Dawn’s safe, we don’t have to worry about the First Evil showing up, and unless you’ve got plans to let the nerds ruin the next year—”

 

Spike knew when the reality of it all finally sunk in when Buffy took his hand and squeezed it tightly. “We can get married,” she whispered. “Oh, God, Spike. It’s over.”

 

Ignoring his bruises and the twinges of pain from broken ribs, Spike pulled her in close as she clung to him. Truth be told, he was doing a bit of clinging himself. Although there had always been the possibility of success, he didn’t know that he’d really believed it would happen until that very moment.

 

Buffy pulled back, kissing him tenderly, mindful of the split lip he had, courtesy of his kidnappers. “This is real,” she breathed.

 

“Bloody right.”

 

~~~~~

 

Mairead knocked on the door softly, feeling a little strange. She’d thought that one of the others would be a better choice to deliver the good news, as they were closer to the Slayer and Spike, and they’d all had just as much to do with the ring’s retrieval. Everyone else had somewhere to be, however; Willow and Oz needed to get to a class, Xander had to work, and Giles was driving Tara by the gallery. Mairead was the only one without classes, or a job, although she still wanted to change that situation.

 

“Come in,” Buffy called.

 

She pushed the door open slowly, seeing immediately that Spike was looking better, although she had a feeling that without the ring, he’d be moving slowly for quite some time to come. “I brought something for you,” she said, holding it out.

 

Buffy’s eyes widened. “You got it? But how?”

 

Spike was looking at her out of his good eye. “So that’s where you went.”

 

“We thought you’d done quite enough,” Mairead explained, moving close enough to place it in Buffy’s outstretched hand. “The coven had a locator spell for vampires, and we waited for the sun to rise to cast it. There was only one out and about in an area that vampires don’t usually go during the daylight hours.”

 

As she explained, Buffy slipped the ring on Spike’s finger, and Mairead paused in her story to watch the transformation. It was really quite remarkable to see the bruises fade to nothing, the swelling go down, and Spike stretch like a cat just waking from a nap.

 

“How did you get it away from him?” Buffy asked, her eyes still fixed on her fiancé.

 

Mairead explained the rest, including the roles that everyone had played. “It was very much a team effort, Buffy,” she said. “I was the one to bring it back only because the others had places they had to be.”

 

“No, it’s okay.” Buffy gave a rueful little laugh. “I guess we have been doing most of the work, huh? Not really letting anyone else help with the big stuff?”

 

Mairead shrugged. “It makes sense. I do hope you’ll allow us to do more in the future, however.”

 

Spike grinned. “No fear of that. The future is wide open from here on out. We don’t know any more about it than anyone else does.”

 

Mairead didn’t think she was imagining the relief in both their faces.

 

~~~~~

 

“Have you decided on a date yet, Buffy?” Joyce asked, putting the last serving dish on the table.

 

Buffy glanced over at Spike, who shrugged. “We were thinking this summer,” she replied. “Maybe in the backyard, if that’s okay.”

 

Her mother frowned, the wheels in her head clearly turning. “We’ll need to see about flowers and catering right away,” she mused. “And invitations. I know it’ll be mostly just family, but there might be others you’d like to have as well.”

 

She shrugged. “I haven’t really thought about that part of it yet. It still seems a little surreal that it’s all done with.”

 

“So Glory really isn’t going to come after me?” Dawn asked.

 

“She’s dead as a doornail,” Spike assured her. “Won’t have to worry about that.”

 

“And the Knights of Byzantium?” Giles polished his glasses. “I know we haven’t seen many of them, but—”

 

“There was one among the dead bodies at Glory’s,” Spike said. “Don’t think he had a chance to tell the others about Dawn. We’d have heard from them by now if he had.”

 

“Either that, or they know Glory’s dead, and they don’t care about the Key anymore,” Buffy suggested. “I’m happy with that, too, although Graham promised that he and his men would keep a look out for guys in armor for a while.”

 

Giles pushed his glasses back into place. “Then you both have succeeded in what you set out to do, and rather admirably at that.”

 

Buffy didn’t reply right away. She was thinking of the things that had changed that hadn’t seemed as though it was for the better—Riley’s death, and her having to kill Ben were two prominent differences. But Giles was right; they had accomplished what they’d set out to do. The world was safe from the First Evil, and she was still around to enjoy it. It didn’t get much better than that.

 

“I guess we have,” she finally replied, her hand seeking Spike’s under the table.

 

It struck her as they ate dinner that she didn’t know whether her mom would be alive to see her wedding in the summer. Joyce could still face complications from her surgery; of course, if Buffy had learned anything from this trip back into the past, it was that one tiny change could have unforeseen consequences.

 

One choice could change everything.

 

Dawn cornered her later that night. “I don’t want to be a flower girl,” she insisted. “I’m too old for that.”

 

“I was hoping you’d be my maid of honor,” Buffy replied, knowing that it would take the wind out of her sister’s argument, and that there was no other choice.

 

“Oh. Okay.” Dawn squealed with delight, throwing her arms around Buffy. “I’m so excited! Can I visit you guys a lot? Even if I’m not in danger?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Buffy replied.

 

Dawn met her eyes. “Thanks, Buffy.”

 

“For what?”

 

The younger girl shrugged. “I heard Mom and Giles talking about stuff. I know that it was hard, and that Spike got hurt really badly, and that it was because of me.”

 

“It wasn’t you, Dawnie,” Buffy said gently. “It was Glory.”

 

Dawn looked away. “Anyway. Thanks.”

 

“You’re my sister,” Buffy said. “I have to protect you.”

 

“Same here.”

 

Dawn scampered off, leaving her with the last of the dishes, saying something about homework, and a few minutes later, Spike’s strong arms circled her from behind, pulling her close. “Need some help?”

 

“I’m almost done.” She leaned back against him. “You ready for this?”

 

“Ready for what?” he asked.

 

“For the future.” Buffy turned to face him. “The one we don’t know about.”

 

“As long as you’re there with me,” he replied.

 

Buffy smiled. “Always.”


	51. Epilogue

“Are you sure I look okay?” Buffy demanded.

 

“You look lovely,” Joyce soothed.

 

Willow smothered a grin. “Spike will probably be speechless,” she said.

 

Buffy frowned. “Really? Because he’s supposed to be able to say his vows and everything.”

 

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me? Spike probably won’t be able to get the words out fast enough.” She looked at the clock. “You’d better hurry.”

 

Buffy took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. She had no idea why she was so nervous; this certainly wasn’t another apocalypse.

 

Of course, it _was_ only the most important day of her life to date.

 

“I’m ready.” Buffy picked up the train of her dress as she descended the stairs. Giles was standing at the bottom, waiting for her. Although she could have had more bridesmaids, Buffy had opted for Dawn and Willow, mostly because Spike didn’t have that many groomsmen. In the end, he’d asked Xander and Oz; Angel couldn’t do it because they had decided that a daytime wedding would be safer.

 

The last thing Buffy needed or wanted were undead party-crashers.

 

She’d asked Giles to give her away long before her own father had expressed his regrets at not being able to make it, and her mom was fulfilling the mother-of-the-bride role perfectly.

 

And when the wedding march began, and Buffy followed Dawn and Willow on Giles’ arm, she saw her mother, standing in their backyard, in a pretty dress. They had passed the date of her death by several months, and Buffy believed that she was going to be all right.

 

Better than, really.

 

She saw Xander and Anya watching from the sidelines, holding hands, and Tara and Mairead next to them, holding a similar pose. In another area of the yard, Graham stood next to Faith, who had been able to make it in spite of some kind of emergency in Los Angeles. Buffy hadn’t paid much attention to her explanation, since she’d been busy with finals and trying to throw a wedding and reception together.

 

Giles’ arm was steady under hers, and he released her to Spike with a kiss on the cheek and went to join her mother. Everything was moving too quickly, and too slowly, all at once; she could barely take it in. Buffy wanted this to last forever, and she wanted it to be over, all at the same time.

 

Spike’s hands closed over hers, and she met his gaze, all nervousness gone now. The moment seemed to slow and stop, until all she saw was the bright afternoon sun shining on his bleached hair, his blue eyes, the black of his jacket and white of his shirt.

 

He seemed almost to be glowing, and Buffy knew that the same was true of her.

 

And she knew that everything they’d gone through, every battle, every scar, it was all worth it. Buffy wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Spike kills Riley in the middle of a fight, and by accident. Buffy kills Ben to stop Glory.


End file.
